


Halcyon Shock

by mischiefgoddesscomplex



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Minor Character Death, PTSD, Pacific Rim AU, Slow Burn, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2018-04-03 10:03:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4096791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischiefgoddesscomplex/pseuds/mischiefgoddesscomplex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the story of the Jaeger that saved all of humanity, thanks to her two unlikely pilots. The Jaeger that stopped the ever-ticking war clock, reseting itself attack after attack. The Jaeger that would be hailed in the history books for hundreds of years to come, that parents would tell stories of to their children at night. </p><p>This is the story of the Jaeger <i>Halcyon Shock</i> and her pilots, Darcy Lewis and Loki Odinson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I decided it's high time to give the Tasertricks fandom a Pacific Rim AU. I'm aware of the brilliant work that was started and sadly abandoned by silverrumrunner a few years ago after a few chapters, and have refrained from refreshing myself with it in order to stay original. From what I can remember, this story's plot will be much different, though. 
> 
> If you've never seen Pacific Rim, my prologue will do a good job of explaining what's about to go down! That being said, if you've never seen Pacific Rim, go watch it _right now because it's awesome_. Then come back here and read my story, which will also hopefully be pretty awesome. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are lovely and what keep me going when I'm in a potato writing funk!

For the as long as there have been people alive to tell stories, humanity has been fascinated by the idea of the stars and what lies beyond them. The idea that we are not alone in the universe; that maybe, somehow, in some way, life exists beyond what we know it as here on Earth. The dreamers and the story-tellers, all fondly gazing up into the black and sparkling abyss and imagining other lives staring back at them and wondering the same. 

Humanity was right. 

One of the nine realms (tucked far away in a deep corner of the galaxy) called Jotunheim is the first alien race to make contact with Earth. When the first Jotun foot-soldier appears near Anchorage, Alaska, he’s roughly the size of a five-story building. All blundering blue muscle and angry disposition, nobody has any clue how he arrived or where he came from. It takes the U.S. military no more than ten minutes to bring him down.

They call him an anomaly; Earth’s first alien. Pictures of it grace the covers of magazines, newspapers; circulate on blogs and Twitter and Facebook worldwide, and it even gets more than a few jokes on late night television and talk shows. It’s cute pop-culture fodder. 

And then more come. 

People don’t start to take the threat seriously until a hoard almost wipes out the entire city of Kodiak, Alaska, half a year later. All roughly the height of a mid-sized building, appearing out of nowhere. Hundreds perish in the attack. As soon as the military is through there, another hoard appears off the coast of Japan. Before the day is through, thousands have died. 

This is not an anomaly. This is a hostile attack on humanity, and humanity is hopelessly outnumbered and hilariously underprepared. 

The world’s governments come together to enlist the aid and resources of the head of SHIELD Nick Fury and billionaire tech genius Tony Stark. Together, they build the world’s first and so far only weapon of defense. It’s called a Jaeger (from the German word _hunter_ ), and it’s 260 feet of pure fighting steel, controlled by two pilots. 

Two more years pass, and with them dozens more attacks on cities worldwide. The monsters seem to be growing in size each time. But now, humanity can fight back. Humanity can win. Hundreds of applicants enlist for the Jaeger program, and dozens more robots are built. One of these applicants is a bright-eyed young woman named Darcy Lewis.

They do not know what they’re fighting yet, or why. Only that the Earth is under attack from these blue giants, and it needs protecting. 

That all changes when two more aliens drop out of the sky. Two more aliens who are considerably more human in nature, hailing from a peaceful intergalactic realm called Asgard. Two aliens who come bearing knowledge about the giants, power, and much needed assistance. Their names are Thor and Loki Odinson. 

This is the story of the Jaeger that saved all of humanity, thanks to her two unlikely pilots. The Jaeger that stopped the ever-ticking war clock, reseting itself attack after attack. The Jaeger that would be hailed in the history books for hundreds of years to come, that parents would tell stories of to their children at night. 

This is the story of the Jaeger _Halcyon Shock_ and her pilots, Darcy Lewis and Loki Odinson.


	2. Magenta Echo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so pumped to get the ball rolling on this story, ya'll. Expect to see an 8tracks playlist to accompany this story to go live on my blog soon. I'll link it in the next chapter of the story, as well! 
> 
> To answer a few inquiries: Loki will not be a villain in this story, and his true ancestry will play a plot point. Also, since this is an AU, the Avengers don't exist, but their characters do as Jaeger pilots. This first chapter contains a lot of exposition before we get to the real good stuff, but it's important. Hopefully pretty interesting though, too.
> 
> kudos and comments are bae, as well as everyone who leaves them.

**THREE YEARS AFTER THE FIRST ATTACK**

If the thought of kicking blue ass and taking names isn’t enough to wake Darcy up most mornings, the thought of the kitchen’s waffles is. Goddamn those are some great waffles. With whipped cream and syrup, always fluffy, never soggy. Sometimes she’s even able to sneak two helpings.

Besides. Giant attacks aren’t every morning. Waffles are. Thank god. 

Darcy swings her legs over the edge of her top bunk and leaps down, her bare feet making contact with the cool concrete floor below. Sneaking a peak at the lower bunk, Darcy notices it’s already vacant: sheets still a little tousled around the pillows. Darcy likes to think she’d become an early riser ever since joining the Jaeger program, but Jane has her beat by a long shot. Science sleeps for no woman is the motto, apparently. 

The mess hall is already thinning out by the time Darcy finally strolls in. She’s not scheduled for a training session until the afternoon, so she takes her leisurely time on this rare morning off. Jane’s sitting at one of the long tables, head bent over in concentration, her empty tray pushed father back to make room for her notebook.

“You’re up early today,” Darcy comments, plopping her tray full of waffles and bacon down across from her best friend. When Jane doesn’t immediately respond, Darcy waves a hand in front of her face, “Hellooo? Earth to Jane? Come in Jane, Earth needs you back here.”

That catches her attention. With a startled blink, she looks up in surprise, her features softening when she realizes it’s just Darcy. “Sorry. I was just working on something.”

“When are you not?” Darcy scoffs in a teasing manner, biting into a piece of bacon. They’d been best friends since college, back when the first giant ever appeared on Earth. Since then they’d both joined the fight, but for different reasons. Darcy is a pilot. Jane is a scientist. Darcy makes the bold and brash decisions, Jane likes to double and triple check every fact before acting.

In a way, this is how their relationship has always been. Now, Jane is one of the top leaders in the field, trying to learn more about Earth’s alien attacks. And Darcy herself has piloted a Jaeger three times in the six months alone, ever since graduating from SHIELD’s academy and earning her official stripes. If Darcy’s being honest with herself, it kind of feels like they’re on top of the fucking world. 

“I’ve just been beating myself up over this formula,” Jane replies grimly, tapping her pencil’s eraser into the notebook rhythmically. “If I can nail this, it’ll be able to predict the next attack down to the minute. And subsequently every attack after that. See, the ratio of the - ”

“Meh!” Darcy holds up her hand, just as she’s about to jab her fork into her waffle. “No science at the breakfast table please. I love you, but I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about when you get into that sort of stuff.” She pauses to stuff a piece of waffle into her mouth and chew thoughtfully before adding, “Although, your theory does sound pretty damn useful. You can go nerd out about it in gory mathematical detail with Banner and Selvig and Ross, I’m sure they’d love that.” 

Jane closes her notebook with a murmur of agreement, tucking it away into her bag before looking back up at Darcy, “So, have you given any more thought to…you know…” 

The way Jane’s voice trails away at the implication causes Darcy to feel a familiar weight bear down upon her shoulders. It’s Ian. Ian Boothby. Her co-pilot and boyfriend of the last six months. They’d known each other for longer, training together in the academy, but they didn’t start dating until they’d been matched as co-pilots. Something about sharing a headspace with someone will do that to you. 

Unfortunately for both Ian and Darcy, she’s come to realize that they’re much better off as friends. Ian is sweet and goofy, and he really does care about her. But there’s no spark, and Darcy’s smart enough to recognize that. 

In true procrastinator style however, she’s been putting off delivering the bad news for the last few weeks. It’s not that she’s exactly afraid to break it off…she just has to figure out how to do it in the right way. He’s her co-pilot, after all. She doesn’t want to make things even more awkward between them. But she knows she needs to tell him soon. Especially before the next time they drift and need to synch up to fight. 

“Yeah…Ian…” Darcy nods her head with some resignation. “I’m going to do it. I swear. I just need a little more time to figure out how to break it to him.”

Jane shrugs, slinging her bag over her shoulder and standing up, “My advice? Rip it off like a band-aid. It’s gunna hurt him no matter what, but at least you have the power to make it fast.” 

Darcy finishes off her last piece of bacon and muses, “You ever ripped a guy off like a band-aid?” 

“It’s been a while…” Jane comments. 

“Hardcore, Foster.” Darcy replies approvingly with a small smirk. 

“I try.”

_________________________

The walk from the living quarters and mess hall to the training facilities is Darcy’s favorite. The shatterdome itself is located in upstate New York, surrounded by lush green forest and wildlife, and the bridge that connects the two locations within offers see-through windows on every side. Sometimes in the summer, they’ll even retract, letting the fresh air flow through. It’s a chilly June day, however, and right now the windows are intact. The view is still hard to beat, though.

This particular shatter dome is one of twelve worldwide, and one of the three in the United States operated by SHIELD. Darcy’s never visited any of the others, but she’s read and heard plenty about them in her training classes. 

This is Darcy’s home. Where she’s spent the last two years training and then piloting. Ever since the Jaeger program came into existence back when she was just finishing her last year of college, she knew it’s where she needed to be. Knew it with every fiber of her being. 

She had been average at her university, never really into much of this or that, coasting by on whatever life threw at her. But this? This is her fucking calling. It’s weird to think about how instinctual it was. Some kids grew up wanting to be a ballerina or a doctor. Darcy was never sure about anything like that…until she saw the glory and bad-assery involved in taking down a three-hundred foot giant. And then she knew. 

These days, the cockpit of a Jaeger feels like her second home. She hadn’t been very good at school, but she _is_ good at taking down giants. And more importantly, she’s passionate about it. Which is so much more than she can say about anything else in her life leading up to this. 

Darcy walks into the shatterdome’s main atrium, the giant concourse housing all the Jaegers on site. Somehow, the sheer massiveness of everything manages to take her breath away every time. And hanging above them all is the infamous war clock, resetting after ever giant attack. 

Right now it’s been one month, three days, ten hours and fifty-five seconds since the last one. Jane and her team of scientists have already roughly calculated the next attack some time around thirty to fifty days from now, so tensions around the shatterdome are still pretty relaxed.

The main metal catwalk takes Darcy across the area, engineers and crew-workers all buzzing about below her. These bad boys take more maintenance and upkeep than anyone would ever realize.

Only four Jaegers are on site currently. She walks past the first, Chernyy Assassin. A Jaeger that truly lives up to its Russian preface: black as night, almost every square inch. Definitely the nimblest of the four, but also the weakest in terms of armor. The Jaeger has the ability to produce a bow from the machinery in its arm, and its back comes loaded with a quiver full of arrows. Almost as impressive as her pilots themselves: Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff. 

The pair of master assassins turned SHIELD agents at the start of the war are also husband and wife. A fact that is not highly publicized in the slightest. In fact, Darcy didn’t even realize they were married until she caught a glimpse of them heading into the same bedroom during her third week of training. They’d intimidated her at first with their steely hard gazes, but it wasn’t long before she saw them as mentors and close friends. Darcy remembers one night taking shots with the two of them, while Natasha told jokes in Russian and Clint kept swiping through iPhone photos of his dog and showing them to her. Assassins by day, utter goofballs by night. 

The second Jaeger in the lineup is Gemini Vengeance, piloted by the Maximoff twins Wanda and Pietro. They’re about Darcy’s age, from a small European country called Sokovia. The two of them have suffered the greatest personal loss from the war: their parents. Sovokia had been the target of one of the earliest waves of giant attacks, back a couple of years ago. The twins came to the U.S. to sign up for the Jaeger program, and they’ve been on board at this shatterdome ever since. 

Their Jaeger is the smallest of the four, and therefore also the fastest. Tony Stark swears Gemini Vengeance can clock speeds up to 160 miles per hour on land. It’s supernaturally quick. And Wanda and Pietro know exactly how to handle her. Some people speculate that they have the deepest drift compatibility out of any pilots alive, and Darcy doesn’t doubt it. She’d heard rumors about how the twins had been a little rough around the edges when they first joined, but could anyone blame them? That may still be the case when they pilot, but these days, Darcy knows them outside the suit as two fun-loving and sarcastic siblings.

The third Jaeger in the bay is the most intimidating by far: Vibranium Winter. Named so after the special vibration-resistant steel used in the body of the monstrous robot. It’s the only one of its kind, considering the metal is highly rare and insanely expensive. But therein gives the Jaeger its almost impenetrable design and super-strength. Vibranium Winter is piloted by two young war heroes: Steve Rogers and his boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes (Bucky for short). And damn if those two know how to pilot a Jaeger to hell and back. 

A winning combination of brute muscle and tactical knowledge, Barnes and Rogers have been piloting Jaegers together since the very first ones were introduced three years ago. They’re arguably the best pilots worldwide, with record breaking drops and kills, and Darcy can’t help herself but to look up at them in awe whenever they walk by. Which inevitably leads to Bucky tipping her jaw back shut with a playful “you’ll catch flies like that, kid,” and Steve chuckling next to him. 

When Darcy walks past her own Jaeger (Magenta Echo - a hand-me-down Mark II) on the catwalk, she’s delighted to see a familiar face scouring over blueprints in front of it.

“Stark!” 

Tony Stark whips his head up, tipping down his shades despite the indoor lighting, and grinning “How’s my favorite little punk this morning?” 

Stark is the man who had co-founded the entire Jaeger program, along with SHIELD director Nick Fury. He’d also piloted the first Jaeger with Fury as his co-pilot, before the two of them handed over the reigns to the hundreds of other applicants signing up worldwide. Now Stark focuses on research and development, designing, producing, and funding the Jaegers that pilots use today. He’s a legend.

He’s also the closest thing Darcy’s ever had to a father figure. 

Her dad walked out on her and her mom when she was in junior high school. Not even a word, just packed up and left in the middle of the night. In a way, it wasn’t really surprising to her or her mother. But it wasn’t any less painful. When her mother had passed away from cancer four years ago…that was worse. 

When Darcy joined the Jaeger program, she came with unbridled passion and an open-mind, two of the things that initially drew her and Tony close together. He took her under his wing, showed her the ropes, let her spend time with him in the lab. Tony’s not the sentimental type…far from it, in fact. But when she made him a cake (or rather, attempted to make a cake) for father’s day last year, she swears she saw his eyes glisten for a split-second. 

“Headed to the sparring mats,” Darcy answers his question, standing alongside him, “So, you know, I’m never better.” 

“About time…” Tony remarks with faux-impatience, checking the expensive watch on his wrist, “I was wondering when your lazy-ass was going to make its way down here.” 

“Are we under giant watch?” Darcy asks rhetorically, glancing up at the war clock for emphasis, “No. So until the world is ending again, I’m allowed to eat my waffles and take all the time I damn well please, thank you very much.” 

Tony shudders slightly, “You remind me so much of myself it’s frightening.” 

“Speak for yourself, pops,” Darcy responds in a playfully sarcastic tone. She leans over to steal a glance at his blueprints, “You workin’ on my new Jaeger?” 

“Ah, ah, ah.” Tony chides, flipping the blueprints over in half. There’s a barely contained mirth in his eye as he replies, “It’s a surprise. As in, don’t go peaking and spoil yourself. When all’s said and done, you’ll love it. I designed it myself, so really, how could you not? But you will. Trust me.” 

“Fine,” Darcy grumbles, rolling her eyes slightly. Patience never was her strong suit, but Tony’s been teasing her for so long about her own personal Jaeger she can hardly wait much longer. 

“Hop to, soldier,” Tony commands with a jerk of his head, and Darcy shoves his shoulder with a smile as she walks past him. Today would be a good day. Despite what she has to do with Ian still. She can feel it in her bones.

_________________________

The sparring mats are crowded, filled with students and pilots alike. Sounds of smacking wood fill the air, combined with little tufts of grunts and groans. Working out had never been one of Darcy’s favorite past-times. Until she joined the Jaeger program. And then it sort of became a requirement.

But for that, she’s grateful. Short of a Jaeger cockpit, there’s no other place she feels more herself at than on a sparring mat. The feel of the kendo bamboo in her hands, the way the sweat rolls off her forehead as she runs through the movements. Now it’s as second-nature to her as riding a bike. 

Ian’s already in the room, unlacing his boots where he sits on one of the long wooden benches. Darcy takes a deep breath to steady herself. The sooner she breaks up with the poor boy, the better. They make a decently good team piloting together, but being in a romantic relationship is a mistake she needs to fix as soon as possible. And she’s put it off long enough already.

Darcy’s not sure if their romance had ever really even taken off in the first place. Or if she can even call it a romance. Ian was sweet, safe…predictable. Maybe it’s a trait that she craves more since joining the Jaeger program, but Darcy needs more adrenaline in her life. And Ian just doesn’t give that to her.

“Hey!” Ian greets her as she approaches him. He stands up and wraps her in a hug. A hug that twists like a knife in her gut. Ouch. He’ll understand. He has to understand. 

“Hey, Ian…” She greets him with a rush of air. This isn’t the first time she’s broken up with someone. But it is the first time she’s broken up with her co-pilot. They can’t keep sharing a drift with this weighing on her mind. She just has to do it. Just suck it up. Take a deep breath, and “There’s something I need to talk to you about - ”

The ominous whirr of a siren cuts her off, followed by the flashing of red lights overhead. Not just any siren, though. 

Darcy suddenly feels like the wind’s been knocked out of her. This is impossible. Jane had said at least thirty more days…

“Giants,” She whispers, her eyes growing wide. 

“Whatever you have to say, it’ll have to wait,” Ian nods his head once as he grabs her arm and they begin running out of the room along with everyone else. 

Colors and shapes are a blur around them as they head to the loading bays, and the only thing Darcy knows is that Ian has a strong grip on her arm, and this is the absolute worst timing she’s ever experienced in the goddamn world. Is this some kind of a sick cosmic joke?

The shatterdome and loading bay feels like the inside of a beehive: people swarming about at top seed, voices shouting and clamoring over one another. Panic. Pure panic. And nothing is sticking with Darcy. 

This is bad. This is very bad. And not just because they’re about to stop an unexpected attack in…what is it this time, Toronto? She glances up at the radar map on the wall. Oh, fuck, it’s so much worse than that. She’s about to drift with Ian. And he’s going to see right through her thoughts. 

Darcy feels like a rag doll, being pushed around and shoved forward into her gear. She doesn’t even realize she’s in the cockpit of the Jaeger until she’s being strapped in. This is routine for her, but right now she’s so out of it. She needs to focus, get her head in the game. Because it won’t be long now before she’s in Ian’s and he’s in hers. 

“You ready for this?” Ian yells over at one point, a bit of a nervous wobble to his voice. He always did get like that. 

“Sure,” Darcy blinks, trying to steady herself as she realizes they’re already airborne. The suit is still offline, but the choppers are carrying them over Lake Ontario. They’re going to be making a water landing for this one. 

“Magento Echo, this is SHIELD Shatterdome, do you copy?” A voice comes over their comms, and Darcy recognizes it instantly as Director Fury. 

“Magento Echo to base, we copy,” Darcy replies, hearing the static over her earpiece. 

“We’ve only got two giants breaching the city, but they’re big,” Fury replies, “The biggest, ugliest motherfuckers yet. Your mission is to take them down. We’ve got Chernyy Assassin on backup if you request it.” 

“Understood,” Darcy swallows, feeling her throat tighten. This isn’t right. She’s not in the right mindset to fight. Her thoughts feel scattered, unorganized and fleeting. She feels the Jaeger’s body detach from the choppers, hitting the water hard. She’s not ready for this. 

“Engaging the neural handshake in three…”

Don’t think about it. Don’t even think about it. 

“Two…”

One giant two hundred feet in front. Another approximately 500 feet to the left and incoming. Both just offshore. Focus. Stay focused on the mission. 

“One.” 

The drift hits her like a ton of bricks. She feels nauseous, watching as thoughts and memories swirl by her. Some of Ian’s. Some of her own. And then it’s there, glaring in front of her like a bright neon sign in a dark desert: an image of her desire to breakup with Ian. Neither a memory or a thought, but a prerecorded feeling and desire, spelled out so clearly in her mind she knows Ian is witnessing it too. 

“…Why didn’t you tell me?” He whispers, both of them thrown out of synch with one another.

“This wasn’t…it wasn’t supposed to be like that, Ian…” Darcy gestures, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Out of the corner of her eye, she briefly acknowledges their incoming targets. 

“Magento Echo, your drift was unsuccessful,” Someone over the comms rattles, and all Darcy can think is _no shit…_

“We need to re-align!” Darcy screams over at Ian, her forehead prickling with sweat. If they can’t operate this Jaeger together in the next thirty seconds, they’re going to be in deep trouble. 

“You’re breaking up with me.” Ian replies flatly, and Darcy can’t tell if it’s a question. Oh, Jesus Christ. This is by far the most shit-poor, bang-up job of a breakup she’s ever had. 

“Ian, _focus_ ,” Darcy commands, trying not to lace her voice with panic, “We need to re-align _now_ or else - ”

 _WHAM_.

The force of the hit sounds and feels like a metal door against the side of Darcy’s head. The first giant has reached them, swinging with its giant meaty paw right against the Jaeger’s metal skull. 

They both scream. Darcy tries hard to lift their Jaeger into a fighting stance, but Ian’s mind is still unfocused. Still reeling in hurt and shock, rendering their robot unable to function properly. She manages an uppercut and misses by a mile. 

Toast. They’re toast. Burnt to a crisp. Sitting ducks. She’s about to radio in for backup when a sudden, blinding light fills the sky in a cylindrical beam in front of them. And then a second farther back. What the flying fuck…

The first beam causes one of the giants to flail hard, smashing right into and through their Jaeger’s skull. Right into Ian’s side of the cockpit. Darcy gasps when she feels their connection sever. And then it’s over. Ian’s not in the Jaeger anymore. 

Smoke is filling the cockpit, along with a rush of air from the outside. Why is there fresh air entering the cockpit again? Broken…the Jaeger’s broken. Her mind is struggling to keep up, and she’s gasping, her body heaving. Ian’s dead. Ian’s dead, and she’s piloting alone. And those white beams of light are…are…

Out there fighting the giants? She catches a flash of red, tackling the giant farther away from her. But then there’s a flash of green, a blur, just pounding into the giant right next to her. The same flash of green that had thrown the giant straight into them. Killing Ian…leaving her alone…

She’s panicking full-on now, struggling to keep her Jaeger upright. No one is meant to pilot alone. You can’t handle it by yourself. No one can. An yet, here she is, the sheer force of her will the only thing keeping her machine from sinking to the bottom of the lake as she moves forward, heading towards land. Her brain hammers against her skull, throbbing under her concentration. 

Darcy has absolutely idea what in the world is happening. Only that she’s more scared than she’s ever been in her life. A wild, frenzied panic overtakes her with a voice in the back of her head screaming _you’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die and this is the last thing you will ever do, or see, or feel…_

She blacks out in the cockpit right before her Jaeger makes landfall and beaches itself where the water meets the land. 

And that’s how Darcy Lewis becomes the first person in the history of mankind to ever pilot a Jaeger on her own and survive.


	3. Waking Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the wonderful reception to this story! I'm so glad people are as into it as I am. A few things I should address: some readers were unclear about what "Jaegers" are, and then it hit me like, wow, okay, so not everyone has seen Pacific Rim. But that's okay! [Here](http://pacificrim.wikia.com/wiki/Jaeger) is a wiki page on Jaegers. Long story short: They are giant metal robots designed to kill the giants, piloted by two people in the cockpit (or helmet of the Jaeger). The two pilots engage in a neural drift to operate it: that is, they synch up with one another through their thoughts to control the outside motions of the Jaeger. Pretty cool right? 
> 
> One other note: I've created a playlist for this story on 8tracks - songs that help me write and that relate to this story. You can listen to it [here](http://8tracks.com/mischiefgoddesscomplex/halcyon-shock-a-tasertricks-mix) or find my blog post about it [here](http://mischiefgoddesscomplex.tumblr.com/post/121429971130/mischiefgoddesscomplex-an-epic-tasertricks-mix)! 
> 
> kudos are comments are the absolute best and so are all you readers!!

You know how, sometimes, you close your eyes, and your vision is filled with bright spots? Bursts of color and shape, swimming in a sea of blackness? That’s all Darcy can see. Drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to keep her eyes open for the life of her. 

She doesn’t know what day it is. How much time has passed. Minutes, hours. There’s voices above her, authoritative, steady. She catches the phrase, “…a few minor injuries, but she’s past the brink of exhaustion right now,” before she passes out again. 

She recognizes the feeling of a pillow behind her head the next time she comes to for a few seconds, so she knows she’s not in her Jaeger anymore. She knows that much. She gets the feeing she’s in the medical unit, and just as she hears the familiar voice of Doctor Bruce Banner, she’s drifting back to sleep. 

“She’ll be fine, she just needs to rest,” Someone says a little while later in a quiet voice. Darcy’s bleary eyes peak open and see Jane sitting by her side. 

She’s sore all over. Arms, back, legs. And her head, oh my god, her head feels like it’s been jackhammered into. Too much, too much. She closes her eyes with a ragged breath and lets sleep take her once again. 

The doctors have given her more pain medication, so sleeping is a trippy experience this time around. She’s dreaming now. An Alice-In-Wonderland-acid-trip nightmare. Alone, frightened, abandoned in her Jaeger cockpit. Images swirl in her head, colors and sounds loud and vibrant. When she opens her eyes, the room is dark. And the beams of moonlight are illuminating an unfamiliar pale face and piercing green eyes at the foot of her bed. 

The weight of her drug-induced sleep drags her right back under again. 

“Am I dead?” Darcy croaks out a long time later, her voice dry and cracking. Her mouth feels like cotton, and she’s still sore all over. The pounding in her head has been reduced to a dull ache. She carefully opens one eye, shapes slowly coming back into focus. And then she opens the other. 

“Trust me, sweetheart — if you were in heaven, I definitely wouldn’t be here,” Tony Stark replies. He’s standing by the entrance to her room, talking with two other doctors, and flashes her a cheeky grin. She starts to chuckle and ends up in a coughing fit. 

“Have some water,” Tony says, coming over to her bedside, pouring her a glass from a jug, and encouraging her to sit up a little. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Darcy curses under her breath, muscles still tender and aching as she sits up against her pillows. She take the glass and gulps it down, not even pausing for air until it’s all drained. She wipes the corner of her mouth and with a wet gasp replies, “It sure feels like I’m dead.”

“You took one hell of a beating, kid,” Tony replies, refilling her glass and watching with barely concealed interest and amazement as she downs that one too. “You were in and out of sleep for almost a week and a half.” 

That causes Darcy to choke a little on her water, sputtering as she pulls back, “Holy shit. Am I okay?” 

Tony laughs quietly, “Define okay. Doctors said you’ll be fine. But you just became the first person in the history of the Jaeger program to pilot alone and survive. So I’d say you’re a little more than okay.”

“Oh,” Darcy breathes the word, feeling the air whoosh out of her lungs. Before the awful memory and feeling of piloting alone can flood her system, she thinks to ask, “Ian?” 

Tony sets his face into a more serious line, sitting down on the edge of the bed so that he’s level with her before quietly replying, “He didn’t make it.” 

Darcy knew that. Had a feeling in the back of her head. She’d felt their connection sever, after all. But shouldn’t she feel…worse? Right now it simply feels as though she’s parted with a dear friend. She’s sad, yes, but not heartbroken. She’ll mourn him, but it won’t affect her as much as it could...

The memory of piloting alone in that cockpit though, on the brink of death…that’s all her anxiety wants to cling to in this moment, and it’s hard to shake. 

“I’m sorry, kid, I know you and he were close,” Tony offers his condolence, “We already had the funeral. We couldn’t wait much longer, and you were still sleeping.” 

“No, I understand,” Darcy nods her head, grimacing. “I’ll…pay my respects at the grave later.”

Tony nods his head back, and a bit of an uncomfortable silence stretches between them. Darcy can see him swallow, his lips pulling up into a taught grimace. Tony has never been good with personal relationships and mushy mumbo-jumbo. But Darcy knows how much she means to him, even though he’s never outright admitted anything of the like. And probably never will. That's just how their relationship works. 

“I’m okay,” She promises, placating him. Though deep-down inside, a little bell of falsity is ringing. She’ll be okay with Ian’s death long before she’ll be okay with the memory of piloting alone. But she doesn’t need to worry Tony with that now, let alone herself. It’s enough to ease some of the tension on his face, at least.

Darcy tries for a subject change, clearing her throat, “So, uh, almost two weeks, huh? What did I miss around here?” 

She doesn’t miss the way Tony’s expression changes, the way his mouth twitches a little in anticipation, “Everything.”

_________________________

Her legs feel a little wobbly at first, but after a few steps down the hallway Darcy can manage walking. Tony promises it’ll be good for her, anyway. She doesn’t want to stay bed-ridden for too much longer, and they’re taking it slow.

“Thor and Loki?” Darcy asks for clarification, testing out the foreign names on her tongue. 

“Immortal alien gods, 'hailing from the realm of Asgard',” Tony confirms, sounding dubious as he repeats the information he’s obviously been told. “Royalty too, apparently. Or so I’m told.” 

“And they’re the two that popped out of the sky, ‘beam me up, scotty’ style?” Darcy asks, remembering the two bright lights that had interrupted her match with the giants. The two bright lights that had sent everything spiraling to hell. Or that one of them had, at least. 

“Yeah, but they’re friendlies,” Tony replies, guiding them through the corridors of the shatterdome, towards the training center and main atrium. 

“Right,” She replies sarcastically, widening her eyes for dramatic effect. 

“Fury’s been debriefing them every since, while you’ve been out of it,” Tony explains with a casual shrug of his shoulders, “These guys are a god-send. Literally. Say they’ve dealt with the giants before. Oh, sorry, _Jotuns_. That’s the official term now. Apparently that scumbag race has a name.” 

Darcy scrunches up her face, “Jotuns? How do they know so much about them?” 

“The big guy, Thor, said this isn’t the first time the Jotuns have attacked earth. Said there were similar attacks back about a thousand years ago, but nothing ever this big.” Tony says, and off Darcy’s look of disbelief, laughs, “Yeah, I know. If you’d told me five years ago that we’d be dealing with ice monsters and immortal gods from intergalactic realms, I would have sent you to rehab. But this is our life now, and to be honest, it almost doesn’t even faze me anymore. Goddam scary thought, isn’t it?” 

Darcy just blinks. Un-fucking-believable. She’s asleep for nine days and the whole world is suddenly turning on its head. Again. 

They’re walking towards Fury’s office when two of the tallest men Darcy’s ever seen step out. Even this far down the hallway, she has to tip her chin up a little to take them in, and their strides probably double her own. Beside her, Tony whispers, “Speak of the devil.” 

“Tony Stark!” The bigger, blonder male exclaims. And boy, is he full of muscle. Even under his odd, metallic armor and red cape, Darcy can tell the dude is holding nothing shy of a six-pack and rippling biceps. His shaggy, dirty blonde hair is twisted back into a few small braids, but the rest hangs down to his shoulders. And his teeth could probably blind the sun. Did he just step out of a fucking Calvin Klein ad, or…

“Thor Odinson, man of the hour,” Tony smiles up at the man, “We were just talking about you.” 

“Oh?” Thor replies, and instantly Darcy makes the connection. _This_ is one of the alien gods from Asgard? For some reason she hadn’t pictured someone so…human looking. Not that he looks like any average man she’s ever seen. Oh, hell no, he’s way too stunning for that. 

“Darcy Lewis, allow me to be the first to introduce you to our resident sibling Asgardians,” Tony offers with a gesturing hand, and that’s when the second man steps forward. “Thor and Loki Odinson.” 

If the first one, Thor, beams like a golden ray of sunshine, his brother Loki has the disposition of a rain cloud. Face set in stone, his lips pressed in a thin line, he looks like he’s perpetually unimpressed. That’s not to say he’s not as beautiful as his brother. Hardly. With cheekbones that could cut through steel and a lean and lithe body, he looks dangerously attractive. And the way his green eyes are currently piercing hers causes a feeling of uncomfortable familiarity to settle in her gut. 

“You…” Darcy whispers, standing up a little straighter. She matches his green cape with the memory she’s tucked away deep inside, the memory of the blinding light and the blur of green that had caused the Jotun to crash into her Jaeger. 

“I’m sorry…?” Loki asks with a singularly raised eyebrow, and then something in Darcy snaps. 

_SMACK_.

Her fist is flying through the air, hitting Loki squarely across the jaw. She hears both Tony and Thor gasp. And Loki? Loki simply flinches at the contact, curiously rubbing the abused patch of skin with the pads of his fingers, his eyes fixated on her. 

“Oookay, did anyone else see that coming?” Tony asks humorously, looking around in an effort to diffuse the tension. 

“You’re the bastard that wrecked my Jaeger. You blew our mission to hell!” Darcy fires off, feeling an anger quickly bubbling up inside. She already dislikes the smug look on his face, his narrow and piercing eyes. The way her punch hadn’t done any damage whatsoever to his pretty face. On a second thought, she adds, “You killed Ian!” 

“We’re only here to help, I swear it,” Thor promises quickly, “What happened that day with my brother was an accident.”

“Whoaaa, nelly,” Tony steps between Darcy and Loki, grabbing her by the shoulders and steering her back a few steps in an effort to steady her. “Technically, _that Jotun_ killed Ian and destroyed your Jaeger. Take a second to think straight. And Breathe.”

Darcy’s still gazing furiously at Loki over Tony’s shoulder, unaware of how close she’d actually gotten to him. There’s not even a mark on his face, and that frustrates her more than anything. She’s not sure why that had happened - a mix of emotions and memories hit her like a ton of bricks, and before she realized it, her fist met his jaw. 

Darcy pulls her eyes away from him, looking down and taking in a shaky breath before looking up at Tony. “I guess,” She mumbles.

“Pleasure to meet you too, Miss Lewis,” Loki finally addresses her, his voice soft and smooth and full of mild curiosity. As if she hadn’t just clocked him straight in the face. Goddamn complacent alien god. “Now, if you’ll excuse us…we’re on our way to the press conference.”

Loki looks towards his brother, and Thor nods “Indeed. Perhaps we’ll see you there?” 

Darcy’s about to protest, but Tony cuts in, “We’ll be there.” She shoots him a confused look. _Press conference?_

“Good,” Thor beams with a wide smile, outstretching his hand for Darcy to take, “I look forward to becoming better acquainted with you, Darcy Lewis.”

Darcy takes his hand, amazed at how it seems to envelop hers. Thor? Thor seems like an alright dude. Sincere at least, anyway. His brother, on the other hand, is already pissing her off with his holier-than-thou attitude. The least he could do is apologize to her for, you know, ripping her Jaeger apart. He doesn’t even match her eye contact after she’s finished shaking Thor’s hand and they’ve departed off down the hall. 

“You wanna tell me why our alien saviors are dressed like that and talk like the Queen of England?” Darcy whirls around once they’ve departed, jabbing a thumb in their direction.

“I’ll admit, it’s all very Shakespeare in the park,” Tony agrees. “You get used to it.” 

“And a press conference?” Darcy asks, throwing her hands up in confusion. “What’s up with that?” 

“The world wants to know what’s happening.” Tony explains like it’s simple. “Two god-like saviors drop out of the sky and are willing to help us? You bet your ass that’s creating a media firestorm.” 

Darcy rolls her eyes, “I’m asleep for a week and a half, and suddenly everything changes. I guess it could be worse…”

_________________________

When Tony says press conference, he isn’t kidding. Half of the massive atrium housing all the Jaegers has been transformed into a stage with microphones and dozens of rows of chairs in front. It's packed full of reports and journalists, cameramen and news crews, all clamoring to get the best spot.

Darcy’s late coming in - she stops by Jane’s office on the way. And the hug Jane gives her ends up being one of those ‘hold on for too tight and too long and never let go’ kind of ordeals. Darcy grumbles and smiles and finally pushes her away with an “Okay, okay, don’t go getting all sappy on me”, but it really did feel good to be comforted like that by her best friend. Whereas Tony shows his emotion through glossed-over humor, Jane's eyes had sparkled with grateful tears. 

When the two of them finally arrive to the conference, subtly sneaking in through a side door near the stage, both Thor and Loki are in the middle of commanding the audience’s presence. Both Tony Stark and Nick Fury sit behind them, a flood of stage lights illuminating everyone. Darcy catches a glimpse of dozens of cameras right in front and realizes this must be broadcasting worldwide.

“As I said, my brother and I are here to help,” Thor replies, answering a question that had been asked to him prior to Darcy’s arrival. “We’ve done battle with the Jotuns before: both on their home world of Jotunheim and our own, Asgard. And this is not the first time they have attacked Midgard.” 

“Midgard?” A reporter calls out from the masses, and Darcy squints but can only see the silhouettes of the herd of clamoring journalists. 

“That’s what we call your world,” Loki replies, a hint of contempt in his voice that Darcy picks up on. 

“My father helped to eradicate the Jotuns from Earth over a thousand years ago, but it appears they’ve returned even bigger and stronger than before,” Thor clarifies. “I’m unsure what their intentions are, but if history has indeed decided to repeat itself, it’s very likely they’ve come to your planet looking for new residency.” 

“And they will not stop until they’ve wiped your faces from existence along the way,” Loki chimes in, and Darcy can hear a subtle gasp ripple amongst the crowd. What, like they didn’t see that one coming? They’ve only been fighting off these beasts for the last three years…global apocalypse was sort of implied here. Well, as long as Darcy and everyone in their Jaegers can help it. 

“If you’re willing to accept us, my brother and I will eagerly and willingly join your fight,” Thor continues, “Our people have no quarrel with yours, and have often sought to help you in times past.” 

Across the stage, Darcy catches sight of some of the other pilots — Wanda and Pietro, Clint and Nat, Bucky and Steve — all solemn-faced and enraptured by the Asgardians’ words. Darcy is starting to understand herself how huge this information and help might be for them after all. 

“What role will you play in our fight against the Jotuns besides intel?” Another reporter calls out. 

There’s a shared look between brothers, and then Thor glances back at Tony before speaking, “Mr. Stark has been designing us a machine…what you call a Jaeger. We’ll be piloting one together on the front lines with your other formidable warriors.” 

_That_ causes Darcy to blink in surprise. They’ve already been granted Jaeger pilot status? Now Darcy knows without a shadow of a doubt that Fury must trust them completely. At the revelation, hundreds of voices fill the room, reporters all yelling over one another in frenzied curiosity, itching to know more about the gods and what they’ve just brought to the table. 

Nick Fury steps forward, cueing the brothers to take a step back as he approaches the microphone. With a loud tap, the feedback causes the room to fall silent once more, and Darcy is once again reminded how commanding the presence of their director can be. 

“If you have any more questions about the most recent additions to our team, bite your tongue, ‘cause we’re done taking them at this time. What I can tell you is this: we’re all working our assess off to neutralize this threat, and we’re taking all the help we can get.” Fury addresses the crowd, nodding back at Thor and Loki towards the end of his speech. 

“Now I’d like to bring up to the stage one of our pilots — a hero. She sacrificed her Jaeger and lost her co-pilot in the recent attack on Toronto…to which we owe our thanks to the Asgardians for stopping.” Fury says, and then glances towards her, “She’s become the only person in the history of the Jaeger program to pilot alone. I’d like to present Darcy Lewis with the Halcyon Medal of Courage, one of the highest honors in the Jaeger program. Miss Lewis?”

Darcy hears the words, but feels her body freeze. Well, this is unexpected. All around her the crowd is cheering, encouraging her towards the stage, and she thinks she can hear Jane whisper, “Darce, _that’s you._ ” but she’s too overwhelmed to think straight. When she blinks again, all the sudden, she’s staring out in front of the crowd, walking up to Fury. 

He pins the medal to the lapel of her jacket, and a part of her self-consciously worries that she’s sweating bullets. What’s wrong with her? She should be eating this up right now. But there’s a pit of growing fear gnawing at her stomach, and she can’t shake this feeling of dread. 

“Miss Lewis, how did it feel to pilot alone? What measures did you take to survive?”

“Were you afraid in that cockpit? Explain the emotions running through your mind at the time.” 

“At what point did you realize your copilot hadn’t survived? Did you believe you were next?” 

“I, uh…” Darcy squints into the blinding lights, feeling her heartbeat race. Questions are being thrown at her left and right, all involving that horrible, horrible moment. All alone, fending for herself, in the cockpit of her smoking Jaeger. Inevitable death breathing down her neck. Closer…closer…pushing her straight towards the edge and sending her tumbling into black nothingness…

“I’m sorry,” She swallows her words, and then she's bolting for the opposite side of the stage in a panic. She needs to get away. She can’t stay back there. Not with that memory. That feeling of total helplessness and crushing anxiety and, and, and... _what the hell is wrong with her?_

“Darcy, _wait._ ” Tony calls out, catching up to her further down the hallway.

She puts one hand against the wall, leaning into it and trying to catch her breath. Tony gives her a moment, standing by her side and letting her orient herself and calm down. When she finally stands upright and looks at him, she knows her eyes still must look wide and afraid. 

“Are you alright?” Tony asks, placing a hand on her shoulder and looking at her, “Listen, kid, I’m sorry — I should have warned you about the whole medal thing. I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

“No, no, that’s…um, that’s okay,” Darcy replies with a shallow breath. She’s never felt like that in her life, though. “I was just put on the spot is all, I think.” 

Tony studies her face carefully, concern clearly etched onto his features. When she offers him a shaky smile, he offers back with a serious look, “I think you may have had an anxiety attack.” 

“How do you know?” 

“...Because I’ve had them myself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> up next: more interaction with our strange new visitors thor and loki! woo!


	4. Soul Food

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the love on this story so far. It motivates me so much! You know what to do: comments and kudos are beautiful, beautiful things.

Blue and towering Jotun monsters — sure. Giant metal robots — sign her up. Immortal gods dropping out of the sky — she’ll learn to live with it. But anxiety attacks? Something you can’t even see coming? How do you deal with something like that?

According to Tony, you can. But Darcy still feels a nervous lump in her throat at the mere thought of it. 

“I don’t tell a lot of people about it,” Tony explains to her one afternoon a few days later, out on the sunny balcony of his own private quarters at the shatterdome. “Not even Pepper really knew until after we were married.” 

His eyes flicker to a small, singular photo of him and his wife on their wedding day, sitting on the mantle just inside. Pepper Potts co-runs Stark Industries with her husband, handling all the important managerial and financial aspects of the company. Darcy’s only met her a few times.

“Have you always had them?” Darcy asks, struggling to understand this psychological change inside her. “The anxiety attacks, I mean.”

Tony shakes his head, “Not until I stepped out of the first Jaeger cockpit ever built three years ago. You remember the attacks on Manilla Bay, back in January 2015?” 

“Who doesn’t.” Darcy breathes in awe at the memory. It’s one of the first history lessons covered in any Jaeger pilot training course. Both Tony Stark and Nick Fury, taking down three nasty Jotuns in the first ever Mark One Jaeger, _Iron Fury_. That was the event that had proved to the world how powerful the Jaegers can be. How necessary they were in fighting this continuing war. 

“Yeah, well, I guess what they didn’t tell you was just how messed up it made me in here,” Tony chuckles grimly, tapping his temple twice with his index finger. “We almost didn’t make it out of there alive. Shoulda been a blessing, but all it did was rewire every instinctual fiber in me. Could never get into a cockpit again without the memory of that first mission snapping into my brain.” 

“Is that why you don’t pilot anymore?” Darcy questions softly, in equal parts sympathy for him and a subtle worry that this will happen to her. 

“Might be some of the reason, sure,” Tony shrugs, “But we all have our parts to play, and mine’s not as a fighter. Luckily — as it turns out — no one can design a Jaeger quite like your old man here. I leave the heavy hitting to you kids, now. I’m more useful out of the suit than in it, anyway.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Darcy grins at him, before it falters slightly, “I don’t think I can say the same about myself, though…” 

Her mind wanders down the rabbit hole she’s been trying to avoid for the past few days. Being a Jaeger pilot is her whole life. It’s what she’s good at, what she’s meant to do. What the hell is she going to do with her life if she can’t get back in that suit without facing a major melt-down? 

“Don’t freak yourself out,” Tony replies calmly, “No one’s saying you have to get back in the suit tomorrow. I’ll talk to Fury about it. Coming from someone like me, I think you need time away from combat.”

Darcy shakes her head in rapid agreement, “It’s just…I _want_ to fight again. I do. I think. But I just don’t think I’m ready for it.” 

“I wouldn’t expect you to be.” 

“…What if I’m never ready for it?”

“Then you’re never ready for it.” 

Darcy sets her mouth into a pressed line and gives him a stare. Not exactly the most comforting answer, but it’s the hard truth. And coming from Tony, she wouldn’t expect any coddling. He shoots it straight. And a part of her appreciates that, as much as it worries her. 

“How do you deal with them?” Darcy asks quietly, “The attacks?”

“One day at a time.” Tony responds. “There are certain things that can trigger them for me. Words. Dreams. Stressful situations or when I’m under pressure. I have a breathing technique I can teach you. And you can do yoga with me and Bruce in the back of the garden on Sunday mornings,” He pauses and then adds in a hushed tone, “Don’t tell anyone about that. It’s our secret spot.”

Darcy laughs, imagining the two of them attempting yoga together. Bruce Banner she can picture with perfect clarity, but the image of Tony in her mind is one of an angry, twisted, human-pretzel trying to relax and failing. The idea of yoga does sound helpful though. If Tony can live with this, so can she. Or she’ll try to, at least. 

“I guess I can spend some time meanwhile helping Jane in the lab, too,” Darcy offers, partially thinking out loud to herself. She doesn't want to be completely useless if she can’t pilot. “Besides, it’s not like we have a shortage on pilots right now with the almighty deities up to bat for us.”

Tony grins a little lopsidedly, “That’s the spirit. Speaking of: first impressions of them? I know you clocked the green one square in the jaw. Nice aim, by the way.”

“Thanks.” Darcy scoffs, “Mister ‘I’m too good for bruising’ gets under my skin. I can’t explain it. There’s just this pride and ego to him that Thor doesn’t have. That and he didn’t look at all upset about wrecking my Jaeger. And, you know, Ian’s death.”

“Well, like it or not, they’re here to stay,” Tony muses, leaning back in his chair, “Their Jaeger is being built as we speak. Should be done by the the end of the weekend.” 

“And what about my Jaeger?” Darcy asks, suddenly remembering the gift Tony was ready to bestow on her before everything went to hell in a hand-basket. 

Tony pulls up the corner of his mouth in a reassuring smile, “It’ll be ready whenever you are, kiddo.”

_________________________

God bless Fried Chicken Fridays.

Darcy can smell the spices all the way down the corridor from Tony’s quarters, and by the time she reaches the kitchen, her mouth is practically watering. Say what you will about the pros and cons of the Jaeger program and shatterdome life, but the SHIELD base in upstate New York knows how to feed everyone right.

Darcy loads up on the southern comfort food — fried chicken, green beans, potatoes — and plops down at one of the long dinner tables next to her fellow pilots, all engrossed in conversation and the good food. 

“Aw, c’mon, it was my knee, I have a bad knee,” Clint is saying, complaining through a mouthful of food, “I injured it last week in training. If we race again in a month I’ll whoop your ass.” 

Pietro chuckles from diagonally down the table, his Sokovian accent easily rolling off his tongue, “Sure, old man, you keep telling yourself that.” 

Wanda smacks Pietro hard in the arm, “You should not be challenging him like that. You’ll make his injury worse.” 

“If there even is one…” Natasha says under her breath and rolls her eyes next to Clint, and he shifts his gaze at her before stuffing more potatoes in his mouth. 

“So,” Darcy says breathlessly, eyeing the table as she settles in, “What’d I miss?” 

“Just Clint and Pietro and their constant battle of egos,” Steve Rogers chimes in from down the table. Next to him, Bucky has his back leaned up against Steve’s shoulder, one foot propped up on the bench next to him as he flips through a book. 

“So nothing new then.” Darcy replies sarcastically, digging into her fried chicken. 

At this, Bucky sets his book down, straightening himself as he looks over to her. “How’s it feel to be a hot shot now, huh, kid? Look at you, fancy new medal and all.”

Darcy can feel a heat creep into her cheeks as she looks down. The Halcyon medal is still pinned to her lapel - she hasn’t worn her bomber jacket since the ceremony and had forgotten it was even still on there. In an impulsive move, she plucks it off, stuffing it into her pocket. It burns in her hand, the memory of how she earned it, and there’s a sweet relief when she feels it drop into the bottom of her pocket. 

“No need to be shy about it, princess,” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You earned it. Bask in your glory, as they say. God knows I’m familiar with the feeling, ain’t that right, Stevie?” 

Steve rolls his eyes playfully, giving Bucky a look for his bragging, “There’s a difference between setting record breaking kills and drops and piloting a Jaeger on your own.” He gives Darcy a more solemn glance, “You’ve got guts, kid. I can’t imagine what it was like, but I’m sure it wasn’t easy. And we’re all real sorry about Ian.” 

The table murmurs their condolences about that.

Darcy chews on her lower lip and offers a sad grimace at them. She loves Steve and Bucky so much — the way they look out for her, the way they speak like they’re from 1940s Brooklyn, the way they call her “kid” even though there’s really only a seven year age gap between her and the pair of them. But right now this conversation is starting to make her heart-rate increase. Jesus, if she can’t even handle a conversation about the memory of piloting alone, how is she ever going to get back into a cockpit?

“You given any thought to when we might see you back in a Jaeger?” Clint pipes up after a moment, changing the subject a little. “I mean, we’re not expecting any Jotuns for a while, but I haven’t seen you around the mats in a few days.” 

“Uh, yeah…” Darcy breathes out the word, picking at some green beans and then chewing on one. “I think I’m going to be taking a break for a while,” She says, not knowing at all how to explain her anxiety to them. This table full of heroes, who go out there every day and do what they do without hesitation. How could they understand that? That…that _weakness_. Instead she finishes with, “It’s just too soon…after Ian’s death and all, you know. I just need a little more time to…to grieve.” 

Wanda reaches over and places a hand on top of hers, her sliver jewelry all jingling as Darcy feels the warmth of her gesture, “Of course, Darcy. I know what it feels like to experience a loss like that,” She glances at her brother, “We both do. When you are ready to fight again you will be stronger than ever, trust me.” 

“Thanks,” Darcy offers up meekly. She takes another poke at her green beans. 

“Might I join you?”

The voice booms over all of them, the heavy, British-like accent already unmistakable as the whole table looks up. Thor looms at the head of the table, a cautious look on his face, his tray absolutely packed with food. 

Steve is the first one to break the silence, giving Bucky a gentle nudge as they both scoot down to make room and he replies warmly, “No need to ask. You’re one of the team, now.” 

The smile that breaks across Thor’s face is akin to that of an labrador puppy somehow, and he expresses his gratitude as he sits down in the middle of the table. Behind him, Darcy can see Loki walking with a tray of his own, stopping to glance once at the table before moving on, up the stairs and towards the doors. 

“Your brother doesn’t want to eat with us or something?” Darcy remarks as casually as she can, lifting an eyebrow as she tears off a piece of chicken, licking the inside of her thumb after she puts it in her mouth. Her eyes are still following Loki as he exits the mess hall.

“Loki is…” Thor begins, tilting his head to find the right words, “Not the most sociable. I hope you won’t take that as an offense. He prefers a solitary life as of late.” 

Darcy makes a noise of musing, unable to stop herself from thinking just how much that suits his character, and exactly how unsurprising it is to learn. Too stuck up and proud to be sitting with the rest of them is more like it, probably. Well, that’s just fine with her. 

“I’m Steve Rogers,” Steve says, holding out his hand for Thor to shake. He continues his introductions of the pilots down the table, and when he finishes with Darcy, Thor nods his head. 

“This one I remember,” He says, a proud smile on his face as he points at her, “Your resident hero. And the woman who punched my brother face.” 

Darcy’s about to say something in apology, just because she’s not sure if her action had offended Thor by relation to his brother, but he merely laughs and says, “A well-deserved punch, if I might add. He’s had that coming for a while. I’m only glad it was you who delivered the blow and not myself.” 

“You two don’t get along?” Natasha asks, leaning onto the table to look over at Thor. 

“We’ve certainly had our quarrels in the past,” Thor explains lightly, devouring a whole chicken breast in only a few bites, “But after a thousand years of living together, wouldn’t you? This Midgardian meat is delicious, by the way.” 

“You have a funny way of speaking,” Pietro speaks up candidly, earning an elbow jab and a hushed _Pietro!_ from Wanda. It’s not enough to stop him as he continues, “This land you come from, Asgard, do they not have chicken?” 

“Nay,” Thor answers, swallowing a sip of the beer he’d been given with his dinner and instantly grimacing, “Although our alcohol is much better. Aged in thousand year-old caskets, buried deep within our cellars until the flavor is just right.” 

“Sounds like my kind of place,” Clint speaks up, nodding his head Thor’s way.

Thor grins and then looks around, “I’m quite fond of it, yes.” 

“You don’t exactly look like an alien, either,” Pietro observes acutely again, obviously eyeing Thor up and down, and now Wanda has her head buried in her arms on the table. “Is Asgard very much like Earth?” 

“In many ways yes, and in many ways, no,” Thor replies after a second, biting into another piece of chicken. “We’re a powerful race, one that has helped keep the balance between the nine realms for many millennia. That includes your planet, Earth. And that is why we are here to help you defeat the Jotuns.” 

Thor continues, smiling at the table. “Our lifespans might be longer than your own, but I can assure you, our similarities far outnumber our differences. I have a deep respect for Midgardians.” 

“Does your brother?” Darcy can’t help from piping up. She doesn’t mean to sound rude, honestly. The more she hears from Thor, the more and more he grows on her. But the fact that he speaks like this while his brother is absent says volumes about Loki, as well. 

Thor sighs just a little, “You might not find Loki to be the most agreeable of sorts. But he is my brother, and I can vouch for his intentions. Despite his attitude, he is here to fight against the Jotuns.” 

After that, the conversation turns more light-hearted, with members of the gang each questioning Thor, asking questions about Asgard and what it’s like. It’s clear he’s already fitting in like a long-lost friend: he and Steve in particular seem to strike up an almost instant friendship. It’s not long before the whole table has begun swapping stories and laughing, Darcy included. 

She excuses herself well before anyone else, feeling a familiar sting of sleep forming behind her eyes. It’s been a few days since she’d gotten out of bed after the incident, but she still feels the weight of exhaustion bearing down on her. It’s an unusual sensation, and she hates it. It makes her feel old. Washed up. But she can’t deny it, and soon she’s pushing her way out of the mess hall doors and back towards the living quarters. 

Darcy almost doesn’t notice the dark figure lounging on the catwalk in the shatterdome, connecting the mess hall and the living quarters. He’s got his legs dangling off the edge from where he sits, his arms resting on the lower bar as he leans out and observes the loading bay from above. 

Below, hundreds of maintenance workers scuttle about, sparks flying from power tools every now and then. It makes them all look like ants, and makes whoever’s watching feel so high above everyone else. This is one of Darcy’s favorite spots to come for precisely that reason.

His messy black hair falls around his shoulders, and she knows it’s Loki. His tray of food lies untouched beside him, and it causes Darcy to huff a little irritatedly, “Shame to waste all that chicken like that.” 

“I have no appetite.” Comes the reply, his voice dark and rich as he continues to look down upon the loading bay area. 

“Then why’d you take the food?” Darcy challenges a little defensively from behind him, folding her arms across her chest. 

No reply. 

“What’s your problem?” Darcy asks sharply, feeling an anger bubble up inside her again. Goddammit, she hates the silent treatment. Even with strangers. Especially with strangers, it seems. To be fair, they’re not exactly strangers anymore. But that doesn’t mean she’s stopped disliking him. 

He cocks his head a little, just enough for her to see the corner of his mouth twitch into a sadistic smirk, and it makes Darcy want to blow steam out of her ears it pisses her off so much. And he remains silent. 

“That’s fine, don’t talk to me… _jerk_.” She throws in the insult out of irritability. “I’d actually probably like you a hell of a lot better if you never talked to me again. So keep doing what you’re doing.”

“Will that be all, Miss Lewis?” He replies instantly, darkly, with a sarcastic little drawl. Oh, that fucker. _Now_ he speaks, after she specifically told him not too. He’s doing this on purpose, isn’t he? 

“I don’t like you.” Darcy replies, and she feels childish in saying it. But she can’t help it. He’s swooped in here and unapologetically ruined everything. And to top it all off with the cardinal sin of all cardinal sins, he’s wasting the fried chicken. She has a right not to like him, doesn’t she?

There’s no response from Loki when she finally leaves a few seconds later, marching off towards her her room and leaving him sitting there, all alone, legs dangling off the side and head hung low over the bars. She's well out of earshot when he mumbles, "That makes two of us."


	5. Incompatible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for waiting so patiently for this chapter, you guys! I wanted to make sure it was absolutely perfect before posting. please enjoy, and remember: kudos and comments are rad and what keep me going!

“Fifty-eight…twenty-seven…seventy…thirty-five…”

“Wait, wait, wait, was that a seventy or a seventeen?”

“I clearly said seven _ty_. Yo, Bruce, did I not say seventy?”

“Uhh…I really don’t want to get involved in this…” comes Bruce’s neutrally cautious answer from across the lab.

“Well, you also have an entire bagel stuffed in your mouth so excuse me for not understanding your crystal clear speech,” Jane points out to Darcy in a sarcastic huff. 

Darcy rolls her eyes at Jane, tearing another piece of bagel with her teeth and chewing on it as Jane wipes off the last number on the chalkboard to correct her mistake. In her other hand, Darcy has a list of data she’s reading off to Jane in an effort to help make things more efficient for her scientist friend. 

Which can also pretty much sum up her job title for the last six weeks, if she’s being honest. Darcy “Makes things more efficient for the people who actually know what they’re doing in the lab” Lewis. She should probably look into getting a name plaque with that on it or something.

Not that she plans on staying here forever, though. At least, she doesn’t think so. When Tony advised her to take some time off from combat, the length of time was indeterminate and left completely up to Darcy. Since then, she’s been avoiding the entire south side of the shatterdome ever since her accident — training rooms, the loading bay atrium, the mats, everything. She’s not sure how much longer she plans to keep that up; all she knows for sure is that every time someone mentions anything to do with piloting she feels a heavy weight drop in the pit of her stomach and the urge to run far, far away. 

She hasn’t had a severe anxiety attack since the day she received her medal on stage, and she plans to avoid having another one at all costs. That shit is not fun. Luckily, Jane is more than willing to accept extra help around the lab, and Darcy finds that spending time with her best friend helps to take her mind off of things...

Like the way people stare at her in the halls. At first it was a look of awe: behold the almighty hero, the girl who piloted a Jaeger by herself and lived to tell the tale. She’s become a sort of celebrity…not only in the shatterdome, but outside of it too. She used to love googling herself, but now she steers clear of it at all costs. Anything to avoid looking at a picture of her with her medal on or see another story detailing her harrowing plight for survival. That’s what the world sees, what the people see when they walk past her in the halls: a savior, a celebrity, an idol. 

But the longer and longer she stays away from her Jaeger and anything to do with it, the more the looks have turned into a mixture of that and concerned curiosity: _why doesn’t she pilot anymore? Is it because she’s still upset about Ian? Shouldn’t she be over that by now? Maybe she forgot how to pilot…? No way, you don’t just pilot a Jaeger by yourself and then forget. Maybe the fall damaged her brain…?_

Darcy’s heard it all. All the whispers in the hall, echoing through the shatterdome. A part of her wants to grab a megaphone and shout her denial from the top of her lungs: _I want to go back, I do! I’m just not ready to face it yet!_ But then they’d ask: _Why? What are you afraid of? What don’t you want to face?_ And on and on and on. And the numerous amount of times Darcy has played out that scenario in her head have not ended well.

Her closest friends and co-pilots haven’t said anything yet, but Darcy can see the worry and speculation on their faces, too. Jane hasn’t pushed anything, either. But more than a few times lately, a few pilots like Wanda and Steve have treated Darcy so delicately: like a fragile little teapot, close to shattering. They know something’s wrong with her, but they just don’t know what. Darcy can’t fucking stand it though, despite their noble intentions. Although, it’s hard not to blame them when she’s the one who won’t talk to any of them about it. 

“Dammit,” Jane groans, snapping Darcy out of her reverie from where she sits atop Jane’s cluttered desk. 

“Don’t look at me, I’m just reading numbers,” Darcy throws up her hands in her defense as Jane threads her hands through her hair and pulls in frustration. She’s staring up at the equation on the board with a look of total defeat. 

“I thought I was getting closer to cracking this equation, but I’m way off base,” Jane replies, shaking her head. “What happened two months ago in Toronto is what’s messing all of this up. That attack was completely unexpected. I _have_ to figure out this pattern…” 

Darcy chews on her bottom lip, wishing she could offer some sort of counter-advice to her friend. But the problem is, she has no idea what half of this stuff even means. And then her brain begins to linger on what happened in Toronto, and she has to actively fight off dwelling thoughts that begin to increase her heart rate. 

“You’ll figure it out,” Darcy finally offers up softly yet encouragingly, “You always do.” 

Jane smiles back at Darcy, a small grin that just tugs up slightly at the corner of her mouth but doesn’t meet her eyes. It’s a look Darcy has come to know as “I appreciate your support, but I’m still beating myself up inside over this.” At least Darcy knows that she knows she’s here for her. 

Jane’s eyes flicker behind Darcy’s shoulder just as a double knock comes from the see-through glass walls of the lab. Darcy cranes her neck to see none other than Thor, smiling heartily as he walks around through the glass doors and comes inside. 

“Darcy Lewis!” He greets her with enthusiasm, a bright smile on his face. When he turns to Jane, his expression softens just a little, a warm look in his eyes as he greets her, “Lady Jane Foster.”

“I’ve told you before, you really don’t need to call me ‘Lady,’ as much as I appreciate it,” She laughs with a little half-smile, turning back towards her papers scattered on the desk and organizing them. “But…hi all the same.”

Thor actually blushes a little, a sight that Jane misses but Darcy totally picks up on. She’s smirking at the two of them as she throws a hand on her hip and decides to tease, “Yeah, she really isn’t deserving of that title, dude. You should hear the curse words that fly out of her mouth when she’s been in here too long without her coffee.” 

“Speaking of that…” Jane says, a slight edge to her voice. And then Darcy’s intern instincts kick in.

“Right, coffee, yeah!” Darcy perks up, looking over at Thor, “You wanna come with?”

Thor looks momentarily torn, casting a quick gaze at Jane before turning towards Darcy, “Err — yes. There’s something I’d like to speak with you about, anyway.”

Darcy waits until they’re out the door and down the hall, on their way to the break room before asking, “What’s up, big guy? If you want any tips or help about your Jaeger, I’ll help you the best I can, but it’s been a while — ”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Thor shakes his head, and then adds quickly, “Though I’m sure your advice would be most valuable. We’ve been training with your comrades in preparation for the next attack, and I feel as though we’re…competent in our abilities.” 

“Oh, well, that’s…” Darcy says, pausing to find the right words. She thinks about it, about that life. Her old life. Imagines Thor and Loki, fighting on the matts, attending strategy lessons, sharing meals with her co-pilots. Her friends. She misses it. But the pressing weight of her anxiety still lingers like a fog in the back of her mind. She finally answers a little flatly, “….that’s good. I’m glad.”

“I actually came seeking advice of another matter entirely,” Thor replies, and then chuckles a little, “Your friend, the woman of science, Jane Foster…does she have a favorite flower?” 

Darcy smiles a little at the question. She’s not oblivious to the goo-goo eyes Thor gives Jane every time he visits the lab, even though Jane herself is. And he does visit the lab frequently, way more often than any other pilot. At first it was just to ask Darcy some questions concerning the Jaeger program, but once he caught sight of Jane, he started hanging around a little longer. 

“You got it bad for the lady, don’t you?” She looks up at him, grinning in her all-knowing nature as they enter the break room and she starts up the coffee pot. 

“I simply thought that her workspace…lacked…color,” Thor tries to play it off nonchalantly. “And she seems very stressed as of late. I’d like to brighten it…and her…up a bit. I thought flowers might do the trick.”

“Uh-huh…” Darcy teases, pouring herself and Jane a mug. She likes Thor. She, really, really does. Especially at times like these, when he’s away from that brother of his. “Whatever you say, big guy. And sunflowers. Jane loves sunflowers.”

Thor beams down at her, “Thank you, Darcy.” 

The next day, Darcy walks into the lab to find Jane surrounded by sunflowers. The whole room is filled with them — every nook and cranny that doesn’t contain something pertinent to Jane’s research has a bouquet of sunflowers in its place. It’s really funny to see Jane’s less than cheery disposition contrasted with the sunny plants. 

“Aww, c’mon, I thought you liked sunflowers, Janey,” Darcy teases, setting her bag down in her wheelie chair. To be fair, even she hadn’t expected this many sunflowers. But the gesture seems very _Thor_ somehow. 

“I do like sunflowers,” Jane protests calmly. “I like three, maybe four sunflowers at most. _This_ —” She gestures around the room, “This is way over the top. How am I supposed to get any work done in here?!” 

“I dunno,” Darcy sighs, picking up the card on Jane’s desk. It reads: _A spot of sunshine for an otherwise radiant woman._ It’s signed _Thor_. Well damn. The boy is good. Darcy flicks it over to Jane, unsure if she’s seen it yet. “I think it’s pretty sweet.”

Jane’s expression softens a little when she reads the card, and Darcy can see her just beginning to chew on her bottom lip — it’s what she always does when she’s trying not to smile. “I guess it _was_ pretty…thoughtful of him. He probably goes around giving flowers to everyone around here though, I mean, it’s probably some Asgardian thing — ”

“Jane, he totally wants to bone you.”

“DARCY.”

_________________________

It’s a rainy Saturday afternoon, and Darcy can hear the _plunk, plunk, plunk_ of raindrops outside the window in her bunk. Jane isn’t around — Saturdays are the days she prefers to work alone in the lab. She claims it gives her more headspace.

Which leaves Darcy alone in their room, curled up in a pile of blankets, sifting through her Netflix queue. 

Darcy doesn’t want to say she feels lazy…but she does feel restless. And maybe a little unmotivated. Like ever since the accident she’s been hiding out in the lab with Jane every waking moment just trying to avoid what else is out there. 

And now that she has time alone — time to actually think on her thoughts — she hates it. Hates the deafening silence of being alone. Of not having a…a purpose. And the worst part is, she’s choosing to feel this way and she knows it. She wants to change but at the same time…she feels like she can’t. 

And when you’ve seen every episode of _Friends_ on Netflix and are considering starting over again from season one…you know it’s bad.

Darcy shuts her laptop with a sigh, rolls over in her bunk and holds a pillow close to her chest. It’s been a while since her last anxiety attack, and she’s been working with Tony to help control it. Yoga on Sunday mornings has become a ritual, one she’s actually come to enjoy. Maybe she should look back into the Jaeger program…maybe she’s cured…?

When she hears the sirens go off two minutes later, it sounds like a cosmic joke. 

The ominous whirr echoes outside of her bunk, the red flashing light next to her door going off unexpectedly. A cold shot of ice runs through her veins. And she shoots up from her bunk instinctually…after all, it’s what she’s been trained to do. 

They’ve been expecting a Jotun attack for a while, but the exact time had still been up in the air. Darcy feels her heart racing in her chest as she leaps off her bed. As soon as he feet smack against the cold, hard concrete, her mind flashes back to the last time she’d heard these sirens. And what followed. 

Cold. Dark. Alone. Stranded in the suit. Plummeting downwards.

She sucks in a wild breath and feels her chest tighten. No, no, no, this can’t be happening again. She’s gone so long without an attack, not now, please god, not now. She’s getting better…she’s supposed to be cured, right?

That’s when the metal door to her room swings open. Tony’s standing in front of her suddenly, placing two steadying hands on her shoulders as he says breathlessly, “Hey, I came as fast as I could.”

Darcy nods her head and swallows, but she’s quickly losing control. 

“Remember what I told you,” Tony says calmly, urgently, “Breathe in for seven seconds, breathe out. You stay in here, all right? We’re sending out Thor and Loki this time. I’ll come get you when it’s all over, okay?” 

Darcy nods her head again but begins to stutter in her breathing when she tries to take a breath, “I can’t, Tony — I can’t,” she gasps. That siren is still going off and with it the horrible flashes of memories in her mind. 

She’s going down. She’s all alone and oh, _god_ she’s trapped, and her brain is going to explode. She's going to catch on fire. She's going to drown. She's going to be crushed. She’s going to die. This is death and it’s happening all over again and she can’t stop it and — 

“Yes, you can.” Tony encourages her, his voicing helping to snap her out of it. “You’re safe here. Nothing’s going to hurt you. Breathe with me, okay? One, two, three…”

He counts upwards to seven, the both of them inhaling slowly, and then he exhales with her for eleven more seconds. It’s hard, but Darcy focuses on his voice. His voice is like her buoy in the rocking waves of her anxiety, and she’s frantically clamoring to stay afloat.

Tony speaks slowly, logically, “Stay in the present, kid. Right here and now. You’re doing great.” 

Darcy closes her eyes and breathes deeply again, focusing on his words. _In and out. In and out. Stay in the present. Nothing can touch you here. You. Will. Survive. This._ The warning sirens have stopped now, and her body feels looser after a round of specialized breathing. 

She looks up at Tony, feeling marginally less anxious, and manages, “Go. They need you. I’ll be okay.” 

“I’m…” Tony pauses with one hand on the door and shoots her a tight but sincere and supportive smile, “…proud of you.”

“Thanks. Now go.” 

He’s gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Darcy there with one hand on the doorframe. Dozens more crewman rush past her in the hallway outside, presumably on the way to the shatterdome to prep the Jaeger. Darcy shuts the door and stares at the black steel in front of her. 

She has tunnel vision right now. Stares at the door and feels like she’s falling backwards and away from it. Everyone is out there right now preparing to save the day, and she’s been reduced to a hyperventilating mess in here. 

Darcy crawls back into bed and tucks her knees into her chest. She stares at the clock on the wall. It’s been five minutes. How has it only been five minutes? Surely a lifetime must have passed by now. 

The rain pounds harder on the windowsill and she thinks about where she is. Warm. Safe. In bed. Doing...nothing to help save the world. The world currently being wrecked by god knows how many Jotuns. Smashing, wrecking, ruining it all…she needs to be out there. She can help…she _should_ help… 

Eight minutes have passed.

Darcy lays down and closes her eyes and counts to seven, holding her breath for a few seconds before releasing it again. _You’re safe here. You’re safe here. You’re safe here._ She doesn’t recognize the tear in her eye until it slips out, down her cheek, and soaks into her pillow. She doesn’t mean to, but somehow she drifts off into a fitful slumber by the time ten minutes have even passed. 

When Darcy wakes again, the first thing she realizes is that the rain has stopped. She blinks groggily and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. And glances at the clock.

 _Shit_.

She’s been asleep for almost fourteen hours. It’s almost two a.m., and she’s still alone in the room. God, she hadn’t meant to practically fall into a coma, but she must have needed the sleep. Before she can even assume what’s happening in the world outside of her bedroom, she’s shuffling out of bed, loosely lacing up her boots, and creeping towards her door.

With one hand on the door handle, she takes a deep and steading breath. She can’t stay in her room forever. She’s been holed away for too long. The door creaks loudly when she swings it open and steps into the hallway. 

And then it’s dead silent. 

Like, eerily quiet. 

She tiptoes through the corridors, the long and empty hallways cold and barren. Either everyone’s asleep…or this last attack is taking way longer than usual. There’s no way, is there? Darcy swallows hard at the thought. 

She’s rounding the corner towards the offices when all of the sudden she hears loud voices coming down the hallway from the opposite direction. Angry voices. Yelling. She ducks against a stone out-cove and peers down the hall as three figures emerge. 

“That was a goddamn disaster out there and I can’t deny that, but you two did what needed to be done in the end.” 

“Almost at the cost of _my life_!”

“A little dramatic, Thor, don’t you think?” 

Fury is guiding the two Norse brothers into his office, but the argument is still loud enough that Darcy can hear it through the walls. She edges closer to Fury’s office door and places her ear against the wall right outside. What the hell is going on there? 

“I know I’ve pledged to help your people fight the Jotuns — and I stand by that — but I will _not_ be fighting alongside my brother in one of your Jaegers again, this I swear.” Thor bellows, his tone angry and defiant. 

“It’s not like I’m itching to get back in that contraption with you either, _brother dearest,_ ” Loki spits back. 

Whoa. Whatever happened out there earlier sounds like it went south real fast. Darcy had picked up on some differences between the brothers, but this fight sounds a little bigger than your average sibling squabble. 

“Alright, CALM DOWN.” Fury yells, before his voice lowers just a tad, “I take the blame for not making sure the two of you were drift compatible before your first mission. I guess we all just assumed — you know what, it doesn’t matter now. But the two of you are some of the best fighters we have at the moment, and our pool of pilots isn’t exactly teeming with compatible candidates to pair you off with right now.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Thor replies cooly, “I’ve already made contact with a comrade from Asgard. She and I have fought many victorious battles alongside before — she’ll arrive tomorrow to help join our fight as my new co-pilot.”

“Really?” Loki fires back sarcastically. “You’ve already gone behind my back and replaced me with Sif? I feel touched, Thor, really, you didn’t have to go through all the trouble —”

“Loki, ENOUGH!” Thor silences him, “You know damn well we’re not capable of piloting that machine together.”

“I know that much, you oaf. But did you think about what would happen to me? Hmm? Who _I’d_ be piloting with once you abandoned me?” Loki asks, his voice dripping with hurtful sarcasm, “Of course you didn’t. Once again, Thor, your thoughtfulness shines through brilliantly.” 

Darcy’s so enraptured by the fight that she barely has time to jump back and away from the door as it swings open unexpectedly. Loki’s storming out, a scowl on his face as he leaves the office door wide open in his wake. Darcy takes a nervous gulp and flattens herself against the wall, but he spies her nonetheless. 

His eyes flicker to hers, lingering for a split-second. He’s been caught off-guard, and for the briefest moment she sees this vulnerability in his face. This mix of rage and sadness and _hurt_. And then it’s gone just as quickly, replaced by a mask of irritability and indifference as he sneers at her and walks away.

Well, then. 

He storms off down the hallway, leaving her there, the door wide open now as she listens in on Thor and Fury. They’re mumbling in quieter voices, but Darcy’s still able to pick up on some of their conversation. 

“Your brother may not be the easiest person to work with, but he’s still a skilled fighter,” Fury says, “An invaluable asset.” 

“What will you do?”

“We’ll host try-outs.” Fury concedes, and the tone of his voice suggests this isn’t the best idea they have, but it is the only one. “I’m not losing him as a pilot. We’ll need to find someone drift compatible for Loki, as impossible as that may seem. And as soon as your friend — this Sif or whoever — gets here, remind me to test your compatibility with her, too. We’re _not_ making the same mistake twice.” 

There’s a gentle tap on Darcy’s shoulder just then, and she has to stifle a gasp. For a hot second she thinks it’s Loki for some insane reason; what could he possibly want? But then she whirls around and sees Tony Stark staring back at her. He gestures for her to follow her down the hallway and out of earshot of the open door. 

“Hey kid, I came looking for you but you weren’t in your room,” He says, looking her up and down, “You make it out of all that alright earlier?”

Darcy is overcome with immense relief at seeing him, and throws her arms around his neck for a hug. It’s not something she does very often, but she can’t help herself. Goddamn is it good to see him again. Tony stiffens at her touch, unaccustomed to the gesture, but pats her twice on the back nonetheless in an awkward way.

“Sorry, I just — ” Darcy stutters, pulling back from the hug, She breathes out a heavy sigh and smiles, “It’s good to see you. I’m…okay. You really helped me keep in control this afternoon.” 

“Good,” Tony replies with a half-grin. 

“But _what the hell_ happened out there today?” Darcy asks, thinking about the conversation she’d just eavesdropped on. “I overheard Fury and Thor and Loki — ”

“Then you probably know more than I do,” Tony interrupts her, shaking his head, “It was a goddamn shitshow out there. Something went wrong in the neural handshake, and…is this okay for me to talk about with you? I don’t want to trigger anything.”

Darcy nods her head, feeling in control of her breathing and her emotions, “Yeah…I think I’m okay. Go on.” 

“Anyway, bottom-line? These two are about the least drift compatible you can get,” Tony says. “Their fighting was waaay off. It’s miracle we were even able to take down any Jotuns at all. Vibranium Winter had to go out there and help finish the job.”

“Shit,” Darcy whispers. 

“And the worst part?” Tony continues, running a hand through his gelled hair. “These Jotuns were the biggest yet. And Bruce predicts they’ll only keep getting bigger. That’s why we can’t afford to lose Thor and Loki at a time like this. It’s all hands on deck.”

Darcy feels a pit in her stomach. Her anxiety is at bay for now, but she can’t shake this sickening feeling that’s growing inside. She looks up at Tony with a serious look in her eyes. He grimaces back at her.

“How’s that for fun times ahead, huh?” Tony muses, shaking his head. “You know what they say…the bigger the piñata, the sweeter the candy. Or something like that.”


	6. Ghosting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a new chapter, yay! savor it, for it will be the last update for a while! for reasons why, please see my tumblr (same url as my ao3 username). please leave comments and kudos and I'll love you forever <3

By the next morning, the try-outs are all anyone in the shatterdome are talking about. Darcy isn’t even aware the notice had gone public yet, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Word travels fast inside their little hub. And it’s not like anyone was expecting Thor and Loki to work together again after their disastrous first drifting. 

“Spill, Rogers,” Natasha says over lunch the next day, “Just exactly how bad _was_ that Norse brothers shitshow out there yesterday? I don’t think I’ve seen Fury send in backup that fast before.” 

Steve shrugs animatedly, stabbing at his vegetables with a blasé, “Not as bad as it looked.” 

Natasha shoots him a look of amused disbelief, “You’re a terrible liar, Rogers. We all saw the footage.” 

Bucky slides in next to Steve with a throaty chuckle, setting his tray down at the table of Jaeger pilots, “He _is_ a terrible liar.” With a quick and loving peck on his boyfriend’s cheek, Bucky continues, “You saw the footage, but we sure as hell got an earful over the comms, ain’t that right, Stevie?”

Bucky laughs at Steve’s wince before turning towards Natasha, “Imagine the worst passenger seat driving you can, and then multiply that by the wrath of two literal gods. I swear, I ain’t heard colorful language like that since the academy.” 

Steve concedes with a tight-lipped smile, “Yeah, okay…words were…exchanged.” 

Clint chimes in with a low whistle and a deadpan, “Who would have thought, huh? Those two, not getting along? Shocker.” 

That’s when Darcy walks by, carrying her lunch tray like a timid adolescent walking past the cool kids at lunch on the first day of junior high. God, it’s been a while. She hates that she feels so disconnected from them, but it’s her own fault for distancing herself. She throws an awkward nod and smile in their direction, but that’s not enough for Clint.

“Yo, Lewis!” He calls out, patting the seat next to him, “Haven’t seen your bright and shining face around in a long time, kid. Why don’t you join us today?”

Darcy feels a lump form in her throat, a little panicked at being put on the spot. She misses them all like hell. And at the same time, feels as though she doesn’t belong with them. But the looks on the faces of all the other pilots show such sincere and genuine hopefulness for her to join them that she hesitates in her answer.

“I, uh — ” She swallows, clearing her throat. “Okay. Yeah.” 

“You been keeping yourself busy in the lab?” Clint asks as soon as she settles in. 

Darcy starts to pick at the vegetables in her tray, shuffling them around with her fork. “Yeah. I mean, Jane’s been so stressed trying to nail this formula, I thought I could help her out.” 

There’s a murmur of understanding that ripples through the table, and Darcy stuffs a giant piece of broccoli into her mouth. Dammit, why is this so awkward? As long as they don’t bring up the fact that she’s not piloting anymore, she should be — 

“So, Darcy,” Pietro speaks up from down the table, “Why haven’t you been — ”

His inquiry is cut off by a sharp look from Wanda, and Darcy almost chokes on her food. Almost instantly everyone in the table glances down or away to avoid eye contact. Everyone knows exactly what Pietro was about to ask because they’d all been wondering it themselves no doubt. Great. It seems the elephant in the room is unavoidable after all. 

She could just tell them. About her anxiety. But a part of her is so worried they won’t understand it — won’t accept it — that she keeps her mouth shut. Maybe she’s being irrational. But the admission still feels stuck like honey in her throat. 

After a beat of uncomfortable silence, Wanda is brave enough to speak up with a blessed subject change, addressing the whole table, “So, the try-outs to find Loki a co-pilot are tonight. Will anyone else be attending?”

“You can sure as hell count me in,” Bucky replies with a rough laugh, “No way am I gunna pass up an opportunity to see Mister High and Mighty get knocked around by a few kendos.” 

The table laughs at that, murmuring in their agreement to come watch the show, and then Wanda’s soft and kind gaze falls on Darcy as she asks, “Will you come watch with us, Darcy?” 

The way Wanda looks at her, like she’s still unsure of how far is too far, breaks Darcy’s heart a little. She wants to be strong again, wants to prove to her friends that she can’t be broken by the smallest of triggers. She’d handled her attack well the other day when the sirens went off. Relatively well, at least. She staved off the full-on meltdown in any case.

So watching a try-out shouldn’t be so bad, should it? 

“Yeah…” Darcy grins a little, watching the expressions at the table change to something softer and happier. She takes a steadying breath and continues, “I could stop by for a bit.”

Normalcy. That’s what her admission feels like. Like slowly she’s being integrated back into the group, one tiny step at a time. This is what Tony had talked about. He hadn’t wanted to push her back into her old life immediately, but he’d mentioned that things would become easier if you take it little by little. 

And it feels good.

_________________________

Darcy can hear the roar of people inside the Kwoon from down the hall. As opposed to the regulation training mats, the Kwoon is built more in favor of tournament style-viewing, and Darcy doesn’t doubt that almost every seat is already filled.

The sun has just begun to set over the the forest landscape outside, casting a light purple shadow into the circular room when she walks in. It’s beautiful in here…she’d forgotten just how much so. The midnight blue walls are lined with rows of kendo sticks, the black mats all shiny and clean and ready to be indented. 

She’s right about every seat being filled — holy shit, did the whole shatterdome show up to watch this or what? There’s a spot against the wall that’s perfectly Darcy-sized, even though it’s way in the back. She opts for that as the Kwoon doors officially shut behind her, echoing and silencing the crowd to a hushed whisper. 

Darcy catches Bucky and Steve’s eye from across the room, closer to the action, and Bucky throws her a hand gestures as if to say “come stand over here!” And although there’s hardly any room on the wall they’re standing against, Darcy realizes she’d rather squeeze in next to them than be alone, anyway.

“I feel like a sardine,” Darcy huffs, pushing her way into the spot next to Bucky. The spot is definitely not Darcy-sized. But it does offer a better view of the mat. 

“Trust me, this’ll be worth it,” Bucky raises his eyebrows playfully, ruffling the back of her hair with his hand. She grins a little at that. 

Director Fury has taken his spot at the front of the mats, with his right-hand woman Maria Hill at his side, scoresheets in her hand. There presence commands the attention of the entire room, and what was once hushed whispering has turned into a slowly cascading silence all together. Darcy cranes her neck just a bit to make sure she can see. 

That’s when Thor steps out onto the mat, rolling his shoulders as if to loosen up his neck. He’s wearing a dark blue, cotton-ribbed tank, a stark contrast from his usual red and gold body armor. He looks good, Darcy thinks, with his rippling neck and arm muscles, hair tied back into a loose pony-tail. A quick scan around the room confirms basically the entire female population and even some of the males think the same, too. 

“Thor Odinson,” Fury begins, no pomp and circumstance to be added, “You’ll be testing your drift compatibility with Lady Sif.” 

At her name being called, Darcy notices a dark-haired woman rise from one of the benches next to the mat. She’s wearing a grey undershirt and black leggings, carrying two kendo sticks as she approaches the mat barefoot. She tosses one to Thor and they both grin, a matching pair of blindingly white smiles.

“On your mark.” Fury says, stepping back to assess them as he gives them permission to begin.

The woman, Sif, is gorgeous with her hair pulled back taught against her head. It swishes from side to side in her pony-tail as she begins to circle Thor. She reminds Darcy of a jaguar somehow, her movements sharp and fluid. 

Thor eyes her carefully, only tilting his head from side to side and watching her through his peripherals as she stalks him. The whole Kwoon is locked onto the pair, excited to watch and see who will strike first. 

Sif launches towards him with her kendo, a rough cry torn from the back of her throat as her stick slices through the air, aimed at his shoulder from behind. Thor is quick to respond, whirling his own kendo around and blocking her easily. 

The match flies by after that initial approach. Thor catches Sif’s shin. One-zero. Sif side-steps his next blow and rolls across his back, trapping his neck with her kendo. One-One. They deliver a succession of quick blows to each other’s sticks, feet flying across the mat, almost as if they were dancing together. It ends in Thor stopping short with his stick pointed at her pulse-point. Two-one. 

It’s easy to see the compatibility. You’ve either got it or you don’t, and you’d have to be blind not to see that these two have fought together in the past. They know each other’s bodies and moves to a tee. Neither of them ever gains more of a one point lead on the other. It’s enough for Director Fury to end the match with, “That’ll be all. Report to the loading bays tomorrow morning to start getting fitted for a new Jaeger, pilots.” 

The two of them are grinning, glistening with sweat as Thor slings his arm around Sif’s shoulder and the Kwoon applauds them. Even Darcy finds herself clapping along as they exit the mats, proud of her big and bulky ray of sunshine. He and Sif will work well together. 

“Now’s when the real fun starts,” Bucky is whispering with quiet excitement next to Darcy. 

The Kwoon settles again, this time a buzz of electricity palpable in the air as they await the next and final try-out. Loki Odinson, the lone ranger, different from his brother in every way imaginable. Darcy can’t imagine him piloting with anyone. 

A single file row of pilots straight out of the academy come to stand along the edge of the mat. About seven or eight, in total. All fresh faces, nervous and excited to even make it to this stage. Becoming a pilot is one of the hardest feats in the entire Jaeger program, and this group is lucky to be standing where they are. 

Loki saunters out after that, in an outfit identical to his brother’s, the standard pilot dark undershirt and sweat pants. The expression on his face is unreadable as he steps onto the mat. He pulls up his hair, tying it into a loose bun, and Darcy feels her interest pique a little in his physique. 

He definitely doesn’t have the rippling muscles of his brother, but he’s been hiding his fit form, that’s for sure. She can’t help but notice the way his muscles grow taught in his arms as he tugs on his hair. The way his shirt lifts up just a little at the bottom to reveal her favorite part on any man: that perfect V. _The penis lines,_ she’d once explained to Jane, who had promptly spit out her coffee from laughing so hard. 

But, shit, why does he have to be her fucking _type?_ All tall and lean and still the right amount of cut? Damn him. Damn him to his stupid space planet and back. She scowls a little watching him, thinking how unfair life really is sometimes. She hopes at least one of the candidates manages to knock him on his ass. 

“Loki Odinson,” Director Fury commands the attention of the room again. “You’ll be testing drift compatibility from the pool of pilots selected.”

The first candidates steps forward, a taller black girl, almost as tall as Loki himself. They bow in the traditional fighting style, and as soon as Fury gives his permission to begin, the candidate launches into her attack. 

One-zero. Two-zero. Three-zero. Four-zero. 

The poor girl can’t even get a single hit in before Loki’s ending the fight just as quickly as it began. He looks…bored, almost. Deflecting blows with a casual flick of his wrist at times. Barely breaking a sweat. Darcy swears to god she even sees him yawn once. 

“Next.” Fury calls. 

Every fight after that is essentially the same. Ending in disastrous incompatibility. The crowd is really getting into it though, gasping and laughing every time a candidate lands on their ass. Loki might not be the most popular guy in the shatterdome, but he sure as hell is putting on a show for everyone, making fools out of all the potential candidates. 

“Pay up, sucker,” Darcy hears Steve say at one point. She looks over to him holding out his hand in front of Bucky’s face, waggling his fingers in a “gimme” motion. 

“Augh,” Bucky groans, unfolding his arms and mumbling, “Alright, alright, alright, you win.”

“Huh?” Darcy asks, just as Loki knocks another candidate flat on his ass. The crowd is alight with chatter now, eating up the spectacle before them. 

“I thought this would all be over by the fifth candidate, but Stevie over here thought we’d go way past that. So him and his big fat mouth went and made a bet out of it,” Bucky explains, pulling out his wallet. 

“A bet which I just won,” Steve is quick to point out. “Candidate number five is officially down.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, here’s your five dollars, punk,” Bucky grumbles, throwing the bill at his boyfriend. Steve just laughs, pocketing the money and leaning over to kiss Bucky’s grumpy expression. 

“You two are so cute I’m gunna barf,” Darcy rolls her eyes at the pair, laughing just a little. It sucks that Loki hasn’t been hit by anyone yet, but Bucky and Steve are at least making this a little more entertaining. 

Loki knocks out the rest of the candidates as though it were the easiest thing in the world. Gliding across the mat, his fighting style is very predatory. Very smooth. Like a river current, almost. And not a single person had been drift compatible for him. When the final candidate picks herself up off the mat, Loki turns towards Fury with an almost cocky “what now?” expression. 

What a smug little bastard. 

“Try-outs will resume again tomorrow.” Fury replies, setting his stone-cold gaze on Loki. It makes Loki falter in his expression for just a moment, the corner of his mouth twitching. Apparently Fury wasn’t ready to let him off so easily. “You’re all dismissed.” 

The sun has dipped well beyond the horizon at this point, casting the Kwoon in a dark purple glow. Darcy has to wait for the front of the room to file out before she can even move towards the exit, but somehow Bucky and Steve have already found an opening towards the door. 

“You should come get drinks with us tonight, Darce!” Steve calls back, looking in her direction. 

Darcy smiles back at them, still trapped behind a crowd of people. With a firm salute, she lets him know she’s read him loud and clear. Maybe she will. It’s been a while since she’s done anything really fun. It’s been a while since she’s done anything, at all. 

Somehow, Darcy finds herself as one of the last people in the Kwoon, walking across the mat with a few stragglers. It doesn’t feel right, stepping on the mat with her shoes. Disrespectful. And then, just as suddenly as her anxiety attacks hit her, comes another feeling. A different kind of urge. One to feel the soft firmness of the mat beneath her toes.

Hardly anybody is around anymore, she realizes with a quick glance across the room. She slips off her boots, gently placing them by the edge of the mat. Takes a deep breath and focuses. This is not a trigger. She is in complete control of her emotions and surroundings. She feels good. 

That first step onto the mat feels like coming home. 

Darcy smiles a little, stepping towards the center. These mats are her comfort zone. Where she feels safe. How could she have abandoned them for so long? 

By now the entire Kwoon has emptied out, leaving her there barefooted on the mat. She feels a kind of comforting, secretive peace in her actions. There’s a kendo left over from one of the candidates, sitting on a bench next to the mat. She gently picks it up, holds it reverently in the palms of her hands. Looks down at it with fondness. Feels the smooth glaze of the bamboo under her fingertips. And then grasps it tightly. 

There’s a familiar kind of electrical surge that fires off in her brain when she lifts it in a fighting stance, spreads her feet, lowers her center of gravity. Like her blood is on fire, surging through her veins, filling her with desire. This is where she belongs. This is where she’s always belonged.

She closes her eyes and just _feels_.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She opens her eyes. 

Loki is standing in front of her. 

She’s silent, only a little startled by his presence, her eyes wide. But he’s just staring at her curiously, his eyes raking her up and down just once. 

“By all means, continue,” He offers, and Darcy can’t help but feel he’s being a little sarcastic. “I only came in because I forgot my kendo.” He twirls it around in his right hand as if to make a point. 

“I’m — I’m not…” Darcy stutters a little, standing up straighter again. “I was just…practicing.” 

“Obviously,” Loki comments cooly. 

Something about the way he’s standing there judging her really makes her blood start to boil. She can’t help the next short-fused comment that comes out of her mouth, “Just because you’re pissed at your brother for replacing you doesn’t give you the right to be a jerk to me.”

Loki makes a face like he’s been wounded, stepping forward and onto the mat, “You’re very bold, aren’t you, Miss Lewis?”

“And you’re pretty cocky for a guy who can’t find a co-pilot,” She shoots back with determination. 

They’re standing closer now, within arms distance at least. The way his expression has changed sends shivers up and down her spine. Almost like he’s turned on by the way she’s verbally smacking him. That or he wants to rip her throat out. It’s a weirdly magnetic combination, drawing her in just a little closer to him. 

“See, here’s your problem. It’s not a fight,” Darcy continues, her breath betraying her and coming out a little shakier. _Oh, shit,_ he’s stalking her now. Slowly walking circles around her, never tearing his eyes from her. Darcy plants her feet with a little more purpose into the mat.

“It’s not?” He asks, the question rolling off his tongue darkly, almost as if he’s the one testing her now.

“No,” Darcy whispers, watching his movements carefully. She grips the kendo tighter in her right hand, ready to bring it together with her left and strike at any moment. With a deep breath, she waits until he’s just reached her three o’clock and says with quiet conviction, “It’s a dialogue.”

 _Clack._ She whirls around, swinging her kendo up and towards his chest. He quickly deflects it with his own, the motion smooth and fluid like she’d predicted it’d be. She feels the familiar lightning ignite in her brain, fully aware and confident of the situation, and charges at him again. 

He meets her blow for blow. 

_Clack, clack, clack._ Loki’s strikes rain down upon her kendo in quick succession, putting her instantly on the defensive. She sees the way he grits his teeth, his eye contact unwavering. Already he’s concentrating more on this match than any of his others. 

Loki lands the first blow to her back almost thirty seconds later. “One-zero.” He breathes, and though she can’t see his face, she can hear the smirk. 

With an irritated huff, she whirls around, her kendo striking his. There’s a gleam in his eyes, and she feels like she can almost hear him thinking _come get me._ The thought pushes her forward, eager to land a blow on him. 

_Careful what you wish for_ , she thinks. 

The sound of clacking kendo swords fills the air. One minute she’s dodging his blows, the next he’s ducking hers. He’s good, she’ll give him that. But she stops her kendo just short of his neck with one swift strike and mumbles with satisfaction and a smirk, “One-one.” 

His jaw tenses, stepping towards her in quick succession, putting her on the defensive that ends with a hit that — had it been completed — would have landed smack dab in the middle of her forehead. “I believe that’s two-one, Miss Lewis.” 

Ohhh, so that’s how he wants to play. Darcy sets her mouth into a line of concentration, circling him again. His deep eyes are locked onto hers, his gaze magnetic. By now the two of them are short of breath, and Darcy knows she’s sweating, but so is he. His skin gleams under the moonlight of the Kwoon, letting her know she’s giving him a run for his money. Now if only she could knock his pretty ass down. 

She steps forward, making him glide easily with a step to the right. She feels like he’s playing the defensive right now, has him right where she wants him. She watches the way he moves, so fluidly, like water, and feels as though she knows exactly where he’ll strike in advance. 

And she’s not wrong.

He leaves his three o’clock open and she moves, side-stepping towards him and ducking just as his kendo slices the air above her hair. He’s heavier than she imagined, but with the momentum from her move she’s able to roll him over and pin him to the mat. 

“Two-two,” She whispers, looking down at him with a shallow breath. She’s straddling his waist, keeping him pinned beneath her, his kendo trapped beneath her knee at his side. That’s match. She should be gloating on high. But why does she feel like she’s realizing something much more majorly important here...

He narrows his eyes, swallows tightly in his throat. They’re both panting heavily, and suddenly Darcy becomes hyper-aware of their closeness. The fact that his lips are maybe only six inches at most away from hers. The fact that her hair has fallen loose in strands from the bun atop her head, precariously close to tickling his cheek. The way he feels underneath her, so strong and hard…the way his skin smells so good, like a cool spice.

Darcy shakes her head, breaking the spell. 

“Did you…did we —?” She starts to ask, her eyes searching his. He doesn’t speak, but she knows what he’s thinking anyway. Did he feel it too? Back when he’d challenged her with his silent _come get me_ and she’d responded with an equally as silent _careful what you wish for_. 

Darcy’s only heard about it in connections with pilots who have known each other for life. Whose connections are so strong that they become intuitive to their partner’s thoughts, even out of the Jaeger. Its technical term is _ghosting_ , and Darcy’s not sure anyone else she knows experiences it, save for maybe the twins. 

And then there had been the way they’d fought together just now, matching each other stride for stride. Always in synch with each other. Never missing a step. Only the strongest co-pilots can ghost. Only the most compatible can be so intuitive with each other. Oh, god, this can’t be happening. This can’t be happening…

 _Trust me, I’m just as thrilled as you are_ , Loki seems to be thinking sarcastically, and — _holy shit_ — they really are ghosting. 

Darcy rolls off him and faints, falling to the mat with a _thunk._


	7. Co-Pilots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i know it's been two years since i've touched this but i've really missed it so uh, enjoy this chapter update!? i apologize for taking so long to get back here. this story is my favorite WIP, so I hope to finish it and bring it the justice it deserves. if you're reading this, bless you and thank you <3

Somehow Darcy must have made it into her bunk that night. Because the next thing she knows, she’s waking up in her cot in the morning with a splitting headache and a desperate wish for last night to be just a bad dream. 

When she closes her eyes, she can see his. Green and piercing, locked onto hers. 

She rolls onto her back and stretches. Oh yeah. Last night was definitely real. Or her muscles would be saying otherwise. 

She mulls over the pros and cons in her head. The positives and negatives. On the one hand, she was back on the mat and hadn’t suffered a full-fucking-blown meltdown. That had to be some sort of progress. 

She felt good. She felt…relatively strong. It reaffirmed everything she had already always known: the mat was her home. Piloting is what she was meant for, born for. It’s wired into her blood and bones. 

On the other hand…she had shared the experience with the one and only alien god extraordinaire himself, Loki Odinson.

“Ugh.”

She flops over onto her stomach, pressing her face into her pillow. 

They had ghosted. Somehow — for some inexplicable reason — they were so in-tune and in-synch with one another. Darcy had never felt anything like it before. 

He lit something within her. A fire, a passion. She felt like she had been dancing on that mat, something she hadn’t felt with anyone on a mat, ever. If it had been anyone else, she’d be ecstatic. Hell, it could have been with a circus clown and she would have been happy.

But him? There’s no way in hell she’d ever voluntarily pilot with _him_. 

“Ugh.”

She wonders how he felt about it. She knows he shared the same connection. Like every breath she exhaled, he inhaled. One perfect pair, existing in unison. 

It was probably driving him nuts. 

That tiny thought alone makes Darcy smile. 

Darcy checks her wristwatch. O-Eight-Hundred. His second round of try-outs started a half hour ago. If she’s lucky, she might be able to sneak in through the back and catch the last half. If she’s even luckier, maybe someone’s managed to knock him on his ass. A girl can dream. 

The Kwoon is just as packed as it had been the night before, maybe even moreso now. Wall to wall members of the Shatterdome fill the space when Darcy walks in. It makes it impossible to get too close to the mat, but that’s fine with her. She’ll stick to concealing herself in the back.

_Clack, clack, thud._

The sound of the kendos hitting each other echo through the Kwoon, followed by an “Ooooh” from the audience. Darcy shifts her weight and looks through a window created by the crowd to see the mat. 

Loki has his opponent leveled squarely beneath him, kneeling at his feet, his own kendo pointed at their forehead. He’s sweating, actually panting a little, but there is an unmistakable smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

Darcy looks farther up the steps and sees Fury shaking his head in what looks to be disbelief and exhaustion. Thor stands nearby, shaking his head in his hands. He runs his fingers down his cheeks, pulling at his face. 

Loki whirls around to face Fury.

“Who’s next?”

His statement bellows through the hall, like a king posing a question to a peasant. He’s chalk-full of that cocky swagger, that’s for damn sure. 

Naturally, this does not sit well with Fury.

“We’ve sent you every possible Jaeger candidate in the program, but your ass would rather knock them around than take this seriously.”

This earns another round of “Oooohs" from the audience, but for a completely different reason. Darcy spots her friends nearby: Bucky and Steve, Clint and Nat, Pietro and Wanda. Clint has one hand over his mouth stifling a laugh. Wanda nudges him sensibly with her elbow. 

“I can’t help that all of your warriors are amateurs. Isn’t there anyone worthy enough to spar with?” Loki asks with innate smugness. 

“You can spar all you want, but we’re wasting our damn time if you can’t drift with anyone,” Fury fires back. 

Darcy feels her heartbeat quicken in her chest. _It’s fine_ , she thinks. _You’re tucked away in the back corner. He doesn’t even know you’re here._

But still, Loki looks around. At first, it’s just for the sake of making a point. _Nobody in here could ever be on my level_ , he seems to be saying. Darcy watches him like a hawk. And then his gaze settles in her direction. 

_He can’t see me. He can’t see me back here. He couldn’t even know. Unless -_

“I want to spar with her.”

Darcy’s breath seems to be stuck in her throat. He’s ghosting with her right now. He knows she’s here. She lets this information sink in and then she huffs the air out of her throat. What is he playing at?

“Who?” Fury asks, fed up with Loki’s games. 

“Oh, she knows.”

Darcy’s pulse quickens as he looks up and locks eyes with her from halfway across the dome. The audience senses it too. Slowly they begin to part in confusion. They’re looking at each other: _Who, me? You? No? Then Who?_

It continues until the entire crowd has parted, leaving a direct path from Loki to Darcy. Her cheeks burn as she can feel the eyes of everybody in the crowd on her. Oh, great. This is exactly the kind of anonymity she had hoped to achieved this morning. 

“No can do,” Fury says, finally making the connection. “Darcy Lewis isn't currently authorized to - ”

“Let me spar with her,” Loki says again, this time more of a steely command. 

Darcy quickly registers the looks of confusion on her friends’ faces. Wanda looks concerned. Steve’s brow is furrowed, probably wondering if Loki is trying to pick an unfair fight and if he should step in. Half of her wants to go over and explain everything to them, the other half of her wants to stick her head in a hole and hide. She looks back up to Fury. 

“Darcy, are you willing?” Fury asks, and Darcy can hear him carefully choosing his words. Treating her like porcelain. Just like everyone else lately has been doing. 

“Yeah,” She says quietly, her voice cracking a little. The word just slips out. She steps forward, walks to the mat. Maybe she does come across as porcelain. But goddammit, she’s tired of it. 

Loki has his eyes on her the whole time. She looks up and meets his gaze as she approaches. Instantly, last night flashes back in her mind. Their secret spar on the mat. The way they’d connected. The energy and sparks that had flowed between them. Something mystifying and powerful and inexplicable. 

She walks past him and towards Fury. He hands her a kendo, a look of caution on his face. 

“Are you sure?” He asks so that only she can hear. 

“Yes.” She responds, more conviction this time. 

Darcy takes a deep and steadying breath as she leans down to unlace her boots at the edge of the mat. She slips them off and wiggles her toes, gingerly placing her feet on the mat before her. 

_Home._

Suddenly, all of the pressure melts away. It doesn’t matter that there are hundreds of people here watching, all eyes on her. She runs her fingers along the stick in her hand. Smooth and strong and powerful. 

Like her. 

Her eyes snap up to Loki. Blue eyes meet green. And suddenly, she knows. She knows exactly what he’s playing at. 

This isn’t about rekindling their connection. This isn’t about finding a drift partner. Oh no. This is the opposite. To him, this is a rematch. Revenge. Proving to himself he’s better than her. He wants to knock her on her ass once and for all. 

She locks her grip tight. Like hell that’s going to happen. 

Round two.

“When you’re ready,” Fury says, and it sounds distant. 

Darcy doesn’t wait a second. She leaps forward, kendo swinging right at Loki’s jaw. He dodges it deftly. She whirls around, ready to strike, anticipating him to her left. And she’s not wrong. 

_Smack._

Their kendos connect with one another. It starts a quick succession of blows that reign down, never making contact with anything other than bamboo. _Clack, clack, clack, clack, clack._

They are flying across the mat, difficult to tell who is on the offensive and who is on the defensive. _You asked for it, asshole,_ she thinks with indignation. 

His brow furrows in irritation, blocking a particularly fast combo from Darcy. _Is that all you’ve got?_ He fires back. But like last night, this is the most in-synch he’s been with a partner. And Darcy feels it too, despite all of the disgust. 

Loki ducks to avoid her blow. She rolls across his back and slides onto one knee. It catches him off guard, but he’s able to block her blow to his chin in time. Every move is met with an equal and effective counter-move. It’s a total stalemate. It’s a dialogue. A dance. 

Loki wants to take her down so bad she can practically taste it. There’s a fire in his eyes like there is in hers. But she’s not going to let that happen.

Darcy doesn’t even hear Fury calling it off. And apparently neither does Loki. Both of them so focused and determined on knocking each other to the ground. It’s only when Fury whistles loudly that she snaps out of it. 

It’s like a filter or haze has been lifted — a spell has been broken — and she pauses mid-step. Loki, on the other hand, is quick to bring one final blow down on her forearm. 

“HEY!” Darcy yelps in pain. She glares at him — at the smug expression on his stupidly attractive face — and with all her might, she swings her kendo like a baseball bat at the back of his knees. It topples him foreword onto his hands and knees. 

The Kwoon erupts into laughter and applause. _Take that, prick._

Loki looks up at her with a scowl, cheeks tinged pink. He’s quick to rebound, snapping back up and dusting himself off. She knows he’s pissed though. Serves his royal ass right. 

“Well, that was fun,” Darcy exclaims with a hint of sarcasm and exhileration, “Glad I could help put on a show for you all.” 

And that’s all it was. A show. That’s what she’s telling herself, anyway. She sets down her kendo and walks back to the edge of the mat. 

The Kwoon is buzzing with excitement. Fury is quick to command attention back to him though.

“Not so fast Miss Lewis,” Fury holds up one hand. Darcy pauses where she is. Fury looks between them, his eyes finally settling on Loki. 

“Report tomorrow at O-Six-Hundred for training,” Fury says with a finality. “Both of you.”

Darcy feels the heat prick under the skin in her face. There's a quick rush of the thrill that comes with being told she's going to be back in a Jaeger cockpit. But then she quickly registers the cost it's coming at. She looks over at Loki, and he at her. Then, Loki is laughing. The sound is a little breathless, and full of incredulousness. 

“Obviously you’re joking,” He says pointedly. “I’m not piloting with her.”

“Yeah, uh, that’s not happening,” Darcy throws in, gesturing at Loki like he’s some sort of anomaly. Which he totally is. Because there’s no way she's going to be able to stand sharing Jaeger with him. 

“Like hell you can.” Fury says. “I’ve just witnessed textbook drift compatibility. You two were built for each other.”

Darcy’s face feels like it’s on fire at that. She looks back, almost like she’s searching for help. She can’t find her friends’ faces in the crowd anywhere. She looks at Loki, and he looks at her again, like this is all her fault. _You’re the one who brought me up here!_ She thinks.

“We are not compatible,” Loki tries one final time. 

_Oh, Darcy Lewis. What the almighty fuck have you gotten yourself into…_

“O-Six-Hundred,” Fury repeats, shutting his scorecard book with finality. “Trials are over.” 

—

“You’re _what?_ ”

Jane is sitting in her office rolling chair, looking up at Darcy, who is perched atop Jane’s desk. 

“Um. Drift compatible with Loki.”

Jane shakes her head. Darcy takes a bite of the donut she’d brought in for Jane. Jane had immediately declined food once Darcy had told her what went down in the Kwoon. And well, if Jane wasn’t going to eat it, she obviously couldn’t let it go to waste. 

“And you’re…okay with this?”

Darcy shrugs through the mouthful of dough. She nods her head and waits to swallow, “Okay with being drift compatible with the one person in the Shatterdome that gets under my skin the most? Uh, hell no.”

“Yeah, how does that even work?” Jane asks, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. 

“No fucking clue,” Darcy sighs, “But am I okay with getting back in the field? I’d be lying if I didn’t say the thought excites me a little.”

“Darcy…” Jane starts to say, her tone soft and cautious. Darcy knows that tone. Darcy hates that tone. 

“I’m fine,” Darcy interjects before she could be coddled one more time. She’s ready to get back out there and prove herself. Prove how strong she is. This anxiety has kept her down long enough, it’s time to throw herself back into it.

“You can stay and work with me in the lab,” Jane still offers feebly, “You know I love having you around. And I could really use your help - ”

“Pffft,” Darcy interjects, “Jane, please. You and I both know I’m about as helpful as the gum under your boot right now.” 

Jane sets her mouth in a thin line as if to say _take this more seriously, Darcy._

It’s then that there’s a quick rap on the doorframe of the office. Both girls look over to see Tony Stark standing there, dressed smartly in a suit and tie. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt,” Tony says, lowering his maroon shades, “Actually, I did. Darcy, let’s chat for a second.”

He motions her with a small wave out into the hall. Darcy hops off the desk and looks down at Jane with a look that’s meant to convey apologies, but in all honesty, she’s glad for the interruption. Jane is without a doubt her best friend in the Shatterdome, but she isn’t up for an argument right now. 

Darcy heads out into the hall where Tony is waiting for her, busy unwrapping a stick of gum and feeding it into his mouth. 

“Wanna piece?” He asks, crumpling the tinfoil wrapper between his fingers. 

“Is it cinnamon?” Darcy asks. 

“What am I, some kind of barbarian? No,” Tony shakes his head and shudders. 

“I only chew cinnamon,” Darcy shrugs. “So what’s up?”

“Oh, I don’t know, you tell me,” Tony muses, his rapid sarcastic wit already flaring up, “I’m gone for a business meeting in California this morning and come back to hear you are not only A) piloting Jaegers again but B) doing so with the one and only Loki Odinson.” 

“Yeah, well, that about covers it,” Darcy responds grimly. 

“And these are all things you want because…?” Tony attempts to understand. 

Darcy sighs dramatically, “Obviously he’s not my first pick of co-pilot. Or second. Or third.”

“Shocker,” Tony interjects. 

“But this is my opportunity to get back out there. I don’t want to wait any longer,” Darcy explains, and she hates that she sounds so young when she says it. 

Tony levels with her, looking her dead in the eye, “Kid. You don’t have to prove anything to anybody. I can go talk to Fury right now and get you out of this. Hell, he shouldn’t have put you there in the first place.”

“I can’t keep sitting around here in the lab all day,” Darcy pleads, this time her voice more quiet and more determined, “I’m sick of laying around in bed watching Netflix. Seeing all of the other pilots train together while I’m totally useless is killing me.”

Tony gives her a serious look, letting her words sink in. “If you do this, do it for you. Not for anybody else. Capiche? And if I see your anxiety start to flare up, I’m pulling the plug.” 

Darcy wraps her arms around him in a tight and sudden hug. He returns it only for a moment, and Darcy can feel how sincere he is. But then he’s pulling back with a cool and calm demeanor. 

“Alright, don’t let anybody catch me giving hugs, I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” He says, straightening his suit jacket and clearing his throat. 

Darcy salutes him with a tiny wink, “You got it.”

“Oh, and kid?” He turns to leave, but not before offering one last piece of advice. “Show that green and gold asshole who’s boss, will ya?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're going to get into some seriously juicy darcy/loki bonding time after this muwaha stay tuned


	8. Neural Handshake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi! this story is not over but i realize the updates have become rather infrequent. i don't appreciate any comments that make me feel bad for not updating because this is something i do for fun. i do apologize for the wait, and thank you for your patience if you are one of the many wonderful readers who do support me! enjoy this next chapter, it was a fun one to write <3

Darcy has a sex dream about Loki the night after their official compatibility trial. A _goddamn_ sex dream. She blames it on the stress and the fact that she’s drift compatible with the most insufferable man in the Shatterdome - quite possibly the world. 

She also blames it on the pepperoni pizza she ate right before bed. 

But the worst part was…she hadn’t really minded the dream. While she was having it, anyway. It was one of those dreams where you envision the person in a new light, despite all your conscious efforts not to. She dislikes that element the most. Damn that good-looking son of a bitch.

She hasn’t been laid in…god, who knows how long. Months? Maybe a year? Ian certainly wasn’t doing it for her anymore. She hates herself for having that thought about her dead ex-boyfriend but damn if it wasn’t true. 

So the dream doesn’t exactly surprise her. All these pent up sexual desires. Ready to burst. And burst they did. She doesn’t remember the specific details of the dream, just the feelings. Loki’s hands in her hair. On her hips. Inside of her. 

The way his hips pressed into hers. 

The jolt of desire beneath her belly button and between her legs as though she could feel his weight on top of her. 

She woke with a gasp that morning, on the precipice of orgasm. 

It was the closest she’s gotten to orgasming in a long, long time. 

But why god, _why_ did it have to be him?

_________________________

After a shower (a good, long, hot, cleansing shower), Darcy enters the mess hall with a new pep in her step. She gets a few smiles from her fellow Shatterdome-ees, warm greetings. It almost feels like normal again. 

She grabs a tray and piles up on the waffles. 

It’s early, and none of her usual gang is around. Probably taking advantage of all the sleep they can get. 

Her mind is lost in thought, drifting about how nice it must be to still be asleep, having not been awakened by the most intrusive sex dream, by the most infuriating man, when a tray slides down in front of her.

“May I?”

She looks up, though already recognizing the voice. Of course it’s him.

“Um, what? Sorry? You want to sit…with me? You’re sitting with me, voluntarily?” She babbles, her heart-rate quickening. She laughs, and the sound is paranoid. _It’s that goddamn sex dream!_ She thinks angrily. _Don’t let it affect you so much! It’s not like he has any idea. Or does he? Does he have some kind of alien mind-reading ability? Oh, God. He knows. He totally knows._

Loki stares at her blankly. Then he takes a seat.

“You’re acting odd,” He says matter-of-factly. It feels like he can see right through her. 

“I definitely am not,” Darcy says unconvincingly, shoving a forkful of waffles into her mouth. “ _You’re_ the one acting odd. Why do you wanna sit with me anyway? This place is freakin’ empty.” 

“Trust me, I’d rather not be listening to your shrill tone over my breakfast,” Loki states, cutting into his waffles with a fork and knife. 

“Okay, rude,” Darcy interjects. She points at him with her fork, “No one is stopping you from leaving.”

“Oh, my sweet, naive little co-pilot.” Loki chides with a sigh, “But we’re forced together now, are we not? And I’d at least like to try to make this experience as painless and tolerable as possible.”

“Well, gee, when you put it that way,” Darcy rolls her eyes with sarcasm. “Sounds like someone’s holding a gun to your head.”

“Darling, I might be the God of Lies, but I have my limits,” He replies, like it’s all a joke to him. A really bad joke. 

“Yeah, well, you and me both, buddy,” She snaps, her relatively good mood turning sour. “And don’t call me darling.” Seriously, of all the people to have a sex dream about. He may be a stunning as a literal god, but every time he opens his mouth it just ruins it all. 

“You really don’t like me, do you?” Loki prods further, his questioning darkly curious. 

“Yeah? What gave it away?” She asks sarcastically. “Maybe it has something to do with the fact that every time you open your mouth, all that comes out are A) insults or B) backhanded compliments. Or maybe it has to do with you, oh I don’t know, killing my boyfriend.”

Loki sets his jaw into a hard line at that. “I saved you from those monsters.” 

“Yeah, good job there, dude,” Darcy quips back.

“Don’t call me ‘dude,’” Loki responds darkly. 

“Oh come on. Seriously?”

“It is exhausting dealing with you. You’ve been, at the very least, ungrateful since day one.”

“Oh yeah, sorry. Next time you kill one of my ex-boyfriends I’ll be sure to send you a thank you card. ”

Loki blinks, “Ex?”

 _Shit,_ Darcy thinks. “I mean. We were dating. I only said that because…because he’s not alive anymore. I never broke up with him while he was alive. Or anything.”

She’s fumbling bad, and he can sense it.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“God of Lies, darling.” 

In her anger and without realizing it, Darcy has leaned so far across the table that her face is inches away from Loki’s. He’s just as riled up on the inside as she is, although he’s much better at faking his composure.

They stare at each other just like that, just for a moment. A wave of energy passing between them. 

How is it that she wants to simultaneously rip his throat out _and_ rip his clothes off?

She’s the first to break the weird spell between them, standing up straight and clearing her throat.

She throws back the rest of her coffee, and slams the empty mug against the table a little too loudly. “Well, good talk,” she offers up way too sarcastically.

When she storms off, she misses the way he looks after her, his eyes lingering for just a second too long. 

_________________________

After leaving the cafeteria, Darcy doesn’t make it halfway across the Shatterdome before she hears the P.A. system announcement rattle through the hallway.

“Darcy Lewis and Loki Odinson, report to the landing bay.”  


She rolls her eyes and groans, stomping her feet where she stands. She knows she probably looks like a toddler but she doesn’t really care. Seeing Loki multiple times a day was a fact of life she’d just have to get used to. 

The early morning light fills the loading bay atrium when she steps inside. Sparks are flying on a few of the Jaegers in the bay: Vibranium Winter, most prominently. Of the people working on the machine, one removes his welding mask and waves down at Darcy from the helmet: Bucky.

She grins and waves back as she walks along. It’s not unusual to see the boys working on their own machine, especially Bucky. It’s a skill she envies, but for now knows better to leave it to the more experienced engineers. 

“You’re in for a surprise this morning, kid.” Bucky bellows down at her, a knowing grin on his face.

Darcy piques an eyebrow and deadpans, “I’ve had enough surprises for a long time, Buck.” 

“Trust me, you’ll like this one,” He reassures. 

That has her interested. She continues her walk through the atrium, nearing the back, and that’s when she sees it. A new Jaeger. 

Her jaw drops and she stops in her tracks, staring up at it. It’s impressive, leaner than others she’s seen, but still standing proud with plenty of gusto. The plating on the outside is silver with streaks of dark green. From around the corner, Tony steps forward.

“You like?” He asks, arms stretched wide.

“Is this…is this mine?” Darcy breathes, her eyes wide and disbelieving. 

“Well, yeah,” Tony replies like it’s obvious. 

“This is my new Jaeger.” Darcy states flatly, like she’s trying to convince herself that this isn’t a joke.

“Yes,” Tony repeats again, “Now tell me you like it because despite my outward appearance, my ego is fragile and I don’t handle rejection well. Especially rejection centered around a million dollar custom-designed robot.”

“Are you kidding me?” Darcy asks, finally tearing her eyes away from the robot to look at him, “I LOVE it!”

She squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. He laughs, patting her back and then pulling away, “Darcy Lewis, meet Halcyon Shock. Halcyon Shock, meet Darcy Lewis.”

“Halcyon Shock.” Darcy rolls the name around on her tongue. Her eyes rake over the machine, like a kid on Christmas morning. It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. It’s…

“It’s…adequate.”

The comment causes Darcy to tear her eyes away from the Jaeger once more. Of course it’s coming from Loki, walking up directly behind her. 

“And there’s the man of the hour,” Tony greets him, curtailing his enthusiasm slightly and replacing it with only slightly detectable disdain. “Loki, meet the Jaeger you’ll be co-piloting with Darcy.”

Darcy notices the way Tony neglects to refer to it as _his_ Jaeger. The fact alone warms her little heart ever so slightly. This is hers, all hers. He’s just along for the ride. 

“As far as adequacy,” Tony continues, gesturing to the behemoth behind him, “Shock is fitted to match your strengths. She’s agile, light on her feet. Her right arm can deliver lethal amounts of voltage, similar to a taser. If that taser were on crack.”

Tony comes to stand next to the pair, his hands stuffed inside his pant pockets as he looks up at the machine. “She also has the ability to disappear. Not literally. But she does has invisibility shields that are effective for up to one minute in battle. And, to be honest, one minute might be all the time you need.”

Color Darcy impressed. No, color her _beyond_ impressed. She can’t believe this new toy is all hers. She catches Loki out of the corner of her eye, and even he is slightly nodding his head in agreement, accepting of the gift in front of him.

“Anyway, I could talk about it till the cows come home, but how boring is that?” Tony asks, scoffing. He grabs a helmet off a work bench and tosses it at Loki. He tosses a second to Darcy. Loki glances warily from the helmet, to Tony, and then finally, to Darcy. She meets his gaze, biting back her excitement and nerves, because she knows what’s coming next.

“Ready for a test run?”

_________________________

 

It doesn’t take long for word to spread through the Shatterdome that there’s a new Jaeger in the atrium, and that Darcy Lewis and Loki Odinson are going for their first official drift inside the Jaeger as co-pilots. 

Naturally, a small crowd begins to form to catch the show.

Darcy suits up in the locker room, pulling her hair back into a pony-tail and out of her face. Stepping into the familiar suit brings back a sudden wave of memories. Memories of the last time she was wearing it, memories of destruction and the feeling of impending death. She feels herself actively pushing down the wave, like pushing back bile in her throat. _Not today, not today, not today_ , she chants to herself.

Today she will be her old self. Today will be like the old days. Totally smooth. Totally normal. 

Loki is already in the cockpit of the Jaeger when she arrives. He eyes her up and down, strapping his suit into the cockpit. 

“You’ve done the neural handshake before, right?” Darcy asks, heading over to the right side of the cockpit, her side. “With Thor?”

“Have I done it, yes,” Loki replies, his voice cautious, “Was it successful? Obviously not, as I’m now here with you.”

There’s disdain in his voice. She sighs. The feeling is way mutual. But she thinks about the way he had tried to bury the hatchet at breakfast that morning. In his own, weird, backwards Loki way.

“Listen, I’m just as jazzed as you are about being drift compatible,” Darcy says, choosing her words carefully. “But…I think you were right. If we’re going to do this - if we’re going to do this _together_ , we have to at least try to make it work. For the good of humanity and all that shit.”

Loki actually huffs out a singular chuckle. A laugh. An honest-to-goodness laugh from Mister Raincloud himself. Maybe they could pull it together after all. Maybe they could pull it off. 

Darcy pulls her helmet over her head, and Loki does the same. Fury comes over the comms just as they finish strapping in. 

“Lewis and Odinson, do you read me?” He asks, the static of his mic crackling.

“Loud and clear, boss,” Darcy responds.

“We’re going to have the two of you engage in a neural handshake, and then we’ll get to some basic training,” Fury orders. 

Darcy swallows the acid that rises from the base of her throat. She looks over at Loki, biting her lip. Neural handshakes are intimate things. If they were connected on some level before, they sure as hell will be now. 

“Engaging the neural handshake in three…”

_Breathe in, breathe out. Nothing can hurt you in here._

“Two…”

__

_Don’t slip. Don’t even start to think about it. You’re better than your anxiety…you’re…you’re…_

“One…”

_You’re slipping. Falling. Crashing. Burning._

The jolt of the neural handshake hits her like a truck. Suddenly she’s forced into memories. A whirlwind of her own, mixed with others she doesn’t recognize: Loki’s. His memories are hers, and hers are his. There’s full transparency, no hiding. She’s hurling through time and space and she feels like she's about to be sick. 

The memories blur and shift. She sees a small, raven-haired boy. Loki. She sees his brother, can feel all the feelings he feels towards Thor. Jealousy, anger, unworthiness. Always second place. Never good enough. Wanting more. Crying under his bed. Running away from home.

The scenes melts away. Adult Loki now stands on an icy terrain. He closes his eyes and his skins shimmers into blue. His eyes turn red. He looks like…like…one of _them_. A Jotun. Smaller still, but…how? Darcy’s breath catches in her throat. Who is he?

Before she can register what’s happening, Loki is kicking her out of that memory. Trying to block her. Now it’s his turn to pry. The memories shift focus towards Darcy.

He sees her, young and doe-eyed, aspiring for greatness. Her failed attempts in school, at any and every other job before piloting. The way she fights back her anxiety, the way she loses. How she cries in her bed at night when she’s lonely. 

And then…

Darcy’s standing next to Ian again, and she can feel Loki watching. Can sense him looking at her, looking at the memory of her breaking Ian’s heart. Causing the real reason their Jaeger malfunctioned that day.

The shame and guilt speed up Darcy’s heart rate. He can’t know, nobody can know. 

Outside of the Jaeger, alarm bells echo through the atrium. The neural handshake is, predictably, not going well, but nobody anticipated this. The Jaeger itself is nearly vibrating, all the energy her co-pilots are creating is building up.

On the ground, Tony fears an implosion.

“Fury, shut it down,” He orders over his on comm. 

“Give them a minute,” Fury responds with far more patience.

Inside the cockpit, both Darcy and Loki grapple for control over their own memories and feeling, unwilling to be so transparent. Darcy jerks around her side of the cockpit, like trying to wake up from a bad dream. This in turn causes their Jaeger to mis-fire the taser feature, burning a hole in the side of the atrium and causing the crowd to scream and disperse rapidly. 

They’re both locked in a disastrous and failing neural handshake, threatening to blow the whole dome to smithereens. 

“FURY, NOW.” Tony barks back. And this time, Fury obeys. 

The whole Jaeger powers down immediately, and both Darcy and Loki are thrust back into reality. They slump back into their restraints, breathing heavy, sweat rolling down their foreheads. It's over. 

"Neural handshake...incomplete." Fury's voice echoes over the comms. And then there is silence.

Darcy attempts to catch her breath, looking over at her co-pilot. He’s looking back. He’s impossible to read. There must be a million questions on his tongue. He’s seen way too much of her she was ever willing to expose to him.

But right now, all she can think about - all she can see - is the image of him with blue skin and red eyes. She looks at him now and that’s all she can see.

_Who are you?_

She’s not sure if she asks the question out loud or in her head, but either way…he knows.


End file.
